


reignition

by gayheroine



Category: Senki Zesshou Symphogear
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Smut, and if they were allowed to work out their trauma like they deserve, begins during GX, domestic!tsubasa, happy xv anniversary!!!, i possibly diverge from canon between gx and axz but it's for the sake of domesticity. forgive me, so this is essentially my gx rewrite but if tsubamari was 1000x hornier the entire time, spoilers till AXZ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:34:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 27,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26628370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayheroine/pseuds/gayheroine
Summary: maria's eyes are searing and familiar. tsubasa is drawn, a moth to a flame.alternatively, maria and tsubasa learn to love again.
Relationships: Maria Cadenzavna Eve/Kazanari Tsubasa
Comments: 15
Kudos: 70





	1. chasing the wind

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY ONE YEAR SINCE THE END OF XV!!!  
> this has been my comfort project for...a few months that somehow feel a lot fuckn longer. i love these fools too much. enjoy!  
> 

They cheer for her and shake the very foundations of the stadium.

Tsubasa’s chest heaves, the spray of water still cool on her skin. She knows the crowd is on their feet—she can feel it with how the ground trembles and see it in her periphery.

But in front of her, Maria’s gaze holds her in place, eyes searing. She wears a grin that suits her. Tsubasa thinks Maria was born to look like this—confident and proud and alive. She can feel the exhilaration Maria radiates mirrored within herself.

She breaks away from Maria’s sea-green gaze and looks into the vast rippling ocean that is the crowd. There are even more people here than at the concert two years ago. A wave of emotion crests in her chest, swirling and settling.

“Thank you, everyone!” she shouts, and she means it. The cheering of the crowd reaches a fever pitch, and Tsubasa feels a lurch beneath her, followed by the hiss of machinery as her place onstage descends. She waves until she’s swallowed by darkness, the crowd’s screams fading into a dull roar at the edge of her hearing.

There’s a crackle of static in her ear, and Ogawa’s voice, muffled, reaches her. “Take some time to freshen up, but you have to leave soon. Security will be waiting at your exit.”

“Understood,” Tsubasa replies. She schools her face back into a more neutral expression, but still feels the burn in her cheeks from the stretch of her smile.

A panel slides open before her and the platform she’s standing on comes to a halt. Tsubasa steps off it and into the dressing room. She heads for the makeup wipes she left on the counter. Sliding one out of its plastic wrapper, Tsubasa swipes it across her forehead. She’s enjoying the feeling of the damp fabric on her heated skin when she hears footsteps stop behind her.

“What are you doing after this?” comes Maria’s voice.

Tsubasa turns, rubbing at the side of her face with the wipe. “Check in with HQ, and if there is nothing to do, I will train.” It’s been her post-concert routine since forever—preparing for concerts takes too much time away from training, so she likes to get started again as soon as she can.

“That’s bad for your skin.”

Tsubasa blinks, because Maria is right before her. Tsubasa can smell her heady floral perfume. There’s a furrow in her brow; it’s clearly worry. But it seems almost too serious for the situation.

“Thank you for—”

If her instincts had been any less controlled, Tsubasa would’ve slapped away the fingers that curl around her hand. Instead, she blinks again, and then the cool fabric of the wipe is gone, replaced by Maria’s face in front of her—set with something Tsubasa can’t name—and heat inexplicably rushing up to Tsubasa’s face and neck.

“Don’t rub,” Maria says. “Dab, then use a wash. You need to take better care of yourself.”

She’s still close, maybe even closer. Tsubasa trains her gaze to the side. The question of _what Maria even thinks she’s doing_ is on the tip of Tsubasa’s tongue. She should say something. Maybe step away.

But Maria’s resolute expression for some reason makes Tsubasa think of how she looked just minutes ago, standing under the spotlight with a confident grin, and Tsubasa feels rooted to the spot.

When Maria responds, her voice is almost a whisper. “I just wish,” Tsubasa fights the urge to start when she feels a touch on her jaw. Maria’s finger, clothed in the wipe she stole from Tsubasa, moves lackadaisically—like she doesn’t know she’s moving it—and Tsubasa is getting more and more perplexed but she still can’t find anything to say.

“That you’d live for yourself for once.” A soft touch on Tsubasa’s jaw gently steers Tsubasa’s head to face her.

Any response that Tsubasa has been thinking up catches in her throat when she sees Maria’s expression. And for the first time, Tsubasa thinks the fire in Maria’s eyes feels familiar, but she can’t place it.

What definitely isn’t familiar is that crease still between Maria’s eyebrows. The way Maria’s hand on Tsubasa’s jaw is slackening, ever so slightly. Her voice—low with the weight of her words and something else entirely.

Tsubasa’s stomach prickles and for a moment, she just stares, mind working overtime.

Then she realizes just how close they’re standing; how Maria’s hand still lies on her jaw; how warm her touch feels even under the cool makeup wipe. Tsubasa’s never let herself be guided by her feelings before, but she’s overcome with the inexplicable urge to get away before…before…

She doesn’t know.

Tsubasa steps back. “I’m sorry,” she says. She doesn’t know if she’s apologizing about what Maria said, or for some other reason.

She steps back and Maria’s hand falls away. Tsubasa turns and walks, as controlled as she can, to the door.

When Tsubasa’s shutting the door behind her, she thinks she hears a release of breath.

It certainly doesn’t help her understand what just happened.

_~~~~~_

Obviously, something up above doesn’t want Tsubasa to have the chance to try and figure out what’s going on with her emotions. Tsubasa had just found a quiet spot just right outside the stadium to wait for whoever Ogawa was sending when she gets a sense that something is wrong. The sky was just a little too clear; night just a little too still. Yet, when she gets the word that the someone’s attacked Maria, Tsubasa is shaken despite expecting something like this to happen. Her heart jumps and falls and she stands motionless for a second, emotions and thoughts still jumbled and tangled and tied up in a knot.

She reminds herself it’s just work as usual and regains control. Mostly.

(So what if her face is scorching hot when Maria grabs her by the hand to run away from the dramatic green doll? She absolutely does not make an undignified noise, either.)

When they’re out of the most initial danger and they’re speeding away (in a car Maria basically _stole_ ), Maria acts like nothing happened. But the furrow in her brow is even deeper than it was before.

The blush is still hot on Tsubasa’s face. And for the first time in a while, she worries.

_~~~~~_

She can’t use her gear anymore.

What can Tsubasa do, if her body is a blade but she lacks the power to wield it? Being the wielder of the Ame no Habakiri has been one of Tsubasa’s only constants. A source of pride and joy through its songs. She has faith that team S.O.N.G. would repair it, but there was the possibility that they couldn’t.

It’s her first night back in Japan and Tsubasa is lost.

She’s also jetlagged.

So, although she should be asleep, an energy burns inside her, making Tsubasa clench and reclench her fists in her lap. She wants certainty, and there’s none.

Of course, to add to the pandemonium in her mind, there’s happened with Maria. As much as Tsubasa would like to forget about it.

The more Tsubasa avoids thinking about it, the less she is able to. How looking into those sea-green eyes had felt so familiar. How that burning feeling deep in her stomach was reignited after so many years. By Maria breaking past her painstakingly crafted walls, if only for an instant.

Tsubasa’s figured out what it might mean, and wants no part of it. Doesn’t like what it implies. That someone could replace her. Could hold her and whisper magic words into her ears that calmed her racing heart and filled her with so much love she could barely stand. Could kiss her so sweetly but so passionately that her heart start playing double-dutch.

(Could fuck her so, so good, and turn Tsubasa into a mewling mess clinging to her back for dear life.)

Tsubasa swallows, throat dry. The energy Tsubasa felt after the concert…maybe performing _does_ still have that effect on her. She tries not to remember a searing sea-green gaze.

As her mind is heading down a very, very dangerous track, she hears the hiss of the break room’s door opening. Tsubasa starts, heat rushing up the back of her neck.

And life must have it out for her, because when she looks up, the same sea-green eyes from her memory bore into hers.

Maria holds her gaze. “Sorry,” she says. She doesn’t really sound sorry. “Couldn’t sleep. Jetlag.”

Maria’s wearing a possibly see-through white slip. If Tsubasa looks harder she might be able to tell whether it really is.

She makes a point to not look harder.

Tsubasa releases a breath in a sigh. “Me too.”

Maria walks to the kitchenette and Tsubasa sits back, staring at the ceiling. Silence settles between them, but despite the racing of Tsubasa’s heart, it’s an oddly comfortable one.

“If you can’t sleep too, how about having a drink with me?” Maria asks from the kitchenette. “You’ll be able to sleep better after.”

Tsubasa usually doesn’t drink much. She doesn’t like having her senses dull. But at this point in the night, with her mind so loud, she might benefit from it.

“That may be nice,” she replies. She tears her gaze away from the ceiling in time to see a small, open smile curl at the corner of Maria’s lips.

And that’s how she finds herself downing one, two, three shots of sake, as Maria downs hers at the same rate. They’re talking in between, jumping from one conversation topic to the next, conversation as restless as the heat beneath Tsubasa’s skin.

Maria moves next to her at some point. Tsubasa thinks she says it’s so they could pour the drinks easier, but things are getting a little hazy between the sake and the way Maria holds Tsubasa’s gaze and skims her fingers over Tsubasa’s when she hands her the bottle to cap.

She feels looser than she has in a while. Tsubasa finds her gaze wandering like it hasn’t before (she hasn’t let it) and discovers that the slip _is_ a little see through. Only from close, and she only can tell because Maria’s wearing a bra that’s very black and very dangerous because Tsubasa’s eyes keep drifting back to it and she is definitely going to get caught if she hasn’t been already.

They’ve been talking about the younger wielders, and Tsubasa thinks Maria’s talking about how she’s worried about Shirabe and Kirika right now. Which is serious and maybe Tsubasa shouldn’t be feeling a pleasant warmth as she listens to Maria’s voice, but she never thought she’d be so comfortable sitting with her in the dark break room, splitting a bottle of sake way past midnight.

She feels warm. There’s a pool of heat in her stomach. Probably because the sake.

“Tsubasa.”

Tsubasa looks up at Maria. Sometime, she’d gone silent and was looking at Tsubasa with a glint of amusement in her eyes. “Are you okay? Drink too much?”

Tsubasa lets out a huff of breath through her nose. “No.”

Maria lets out a breath that sounds a bit like a laugh. “Okay. I’m going to clean this up.”

Maria stands up, takes the glasses and the sake bottle, and walks to the sink. Tsubasa rises without thinking and follows her—it feels wrong to just sit.

But there’s nothing Tsubasa can really do after that. She watches as Maria washes their cups until they’re squeaky clean. She places them on the drying rack and then grabs the sake bottle, sliding it onto the high shelf of the cabinet.

“All the young ones are so much shorter than us,” Maria laughs. “They wouldn’t be able to get this even if they—”

She’s turned around and seen Tsubasa right behind her. Maria freezes, sea-green eyes just a degree wider than normal. Her eyes dart across Tsubasa’s face. It takes a moment for Tsubasa to flush with embarrassment, thoughts moving sluggishly. “Sorry. I was just—”

 _Waiting for you_ , is what she was going to say.

But Tsubasa is staring too and something is clouding Maria’s eyes when she makes Tsubasa snap her mouth shut with a reach of her hand. The breath catches in Tsubasa’s throat as she feels a brush at the base of her skull, followed by the feeling of Maria’s fingers threading through the hair there.

She feels herself leaning into Maria’s hand before she knows what she’s doing. It feels so _nice_. Tsubasa could barely remember what it felt like to be touched like this. Her scalp tingles when Maria’s fingers grip a little harder.

“Come here,” Maria murmurs, voice thick with something that’s been building in Tsubasa’s gut all night.

Tsubasa only registers the command and before she can rationally think about what she’s _doing_ she leans in and Maria’s fingers are curling in her hair, nails scraping against her scalp. And then her lips are on Tsubasa’s—warm and full and soft with the taste of sake—and Tsubasa’s mind has gone white.

She presses closer to Maria—dimly registering that she’s backed up her up against the counter—and slides her arms around Maria’s waist. Her waist is softer than Tsubasa expected—not that she’s really thought about this—and actually feeling her curves makes Tsubasa’s heart slam against her ribs.

So this is what was happening.

Maria lets out a breath that sounds closer to a whine than anything else. “I,” she starts, but Tsubasa is curious and, egged on by the hunger in her belly, wants to try something she remembers. She moves from Maria’s mouth to her jaw, placing open-mouthed kisses there and then _down, down, down_ the column of Maria’s neck. Maria moans, but it’s quickly muffled with a slap—Tsubasa assumes she’s slapped her hand over her mouth.

Tsubasa had forgotten what this feels like, but, god—she could get addicted so quickly. Feeling Maria’s chest heave as Tsubasa kisses her neck is maybe the hottest thing Tsubasa’s felt in ages.

Maria’s chest heaves again and Tsubasa feels her gaze slide down Maria’s chest. She wonders what it’d feel like to touch. She’s never really wanted to, before now.

Somewhere in the back of her head, Tsubasa hazily questions herself. _Why is she doing this? And why does it feel so good?_

But the muffled noises coming from Maria combined with the sake completely scatter those thoughts to the winds.

Tsubasa’s hands slip underneath Maria’s clothes and trail their way up her torso. Maria’s back arches, chest pressing into Tsubasa’s. Tsubasa bites her lip at the wave of heat that floods her belly.

Her hands find Maria’s chest, and she slides her hands beneath Maria’s bra without a second thought. The sound Maria lets out, even muffled through her hand, makes Tsubasa’s head go haywire for a moment.

“Tsubasa,” Maria moans, ending with a breathy pant.

So Maria’s extra sensitive there. Tsubasa breathes out, pulse pounding in her ears. “I wonder,” the murmur escapes her lips.

Tsubasa pulls on the hem of Maria’s slip, looking up at Maria with a silent question in her eyes. Maria, panting, takes a moment to meet hers. Her eyes are clouded with lust and Tsubasa sees her swallow. Her eyes are drawn to the movement.

“Take it off,” Maria breathes in her ear, pulling a shudder up and out of Tsubasa’s body.

She takes hold of Maria’s slip and drags it up, running her hands up Maria’s sides as she does. And then the slip is gone, discarded somewhere and Tsubasa’s hands are slipping underneath Maria’s bra again. She pushes it up and grabs hold of Maria’s bare breasts again, massaging. Memories play in her head, and she tries to ignore them.

Maria bites down on her own hand, whimpering. She looks so affected. “When was the last time you have done something of this nature?” the words slip out of Tsubasa’s mouth. _Oops._

She really needs to learn to manage her drunk filter better. She rolls a nipple between her fingers and feels a rush of something powerful at Maria’s choked cry.

“I—fuck,” Maria curses, voice taut. “I’ve never.”

Tsubasa’s eyebrows shoot up, despite herself. She knows the woman didn’t have the most normal upbringing, but to have never…when even Tsubasa…?

She returns her attention to Maria’s neck. “Why not?” Tsubasa murmurs, before she presses her mouth back to Maria’s pulse point.

The hand that had fallen away from Tsubasa’s hair to rest limp on her shoulder returned, fisting the hair at the nape of her neck tightly.

“You—God,” Maria groans. Tsubasa pulls away from her neck, curious if she’d answer. For a few moments, she just feels Maria catching her breath against her. “The facility made it a little impossible,” Maria says finally. “And nothing I’d do was good enough.”

The realization hits Tsubasa slowly. “You have never…?”

A huff of breath warms the side of her cheek. “I’m not naïve. I know how to do it. But nothing’s worked for me.”

Tsubasa feels her brows come together. She’d assumed that Maria was more experienced. “Then are you—?”

“Tsubasa.”

Tsubasa looks up. Maria’s gaze is trained somewhere past Tsubasa. “I don’t care about things like that.”

Maria pulls back and her eyes meet Tsubasa’s. The familiar fire in her eyes is there, but it’s clouded with a pure, naked desire that takes Tsubasa’s breath away.

“Tonight,” Maria says. “I’m all yours.” The hand fisted in Tsubasa’s hair cups the back of Tsubasa’s neck. And then Maria pulls Tsubasa down into a kiss that’s soft and light and makes something plummet in Tsubasa’s gut.

Tsubasa’s mind goes empty. It’s just her, Maria, and the primal heat in her belly. Maria’s lips are fuller than Tsubasa would’ve imagined. Even though Maria’s probably never kissed anyone before, the way their lips move together feels so good.

Tsubasa licks into Maria’s mouth and the noise Maria makes deep in her throat is needy and Tsubasa wants more. She swipes her tongue along the back of Maria’s upper lip and is rewarded by the feeling of Maria moaning into Tsubasa’s own.

Her hands are still on Maria’s bare chest. Everything about Maria’s body is so full—from her lips to the curve of her waist to her chest. Tsubasa doesn’t know how she hasn’t really thought of it before this.

 _You know why_ , a voice inside her head nags.

Tsubasa kisses her way down Maria’s neck to silence it. She returns back to the spot she’d first kissed Maria and notes how Maria trembles. So Tsubasa presses her lips to the spot and sucks. Her reward is a breathy pant that sends a lance of heat straight to Tsubasa’s gut.

Something shifts, and so do Maria’s legs, Tsubasa realizes. So Tsubasa slowly presses her leg upward, feeling Maria’s thighs squeeze greedily against her. She’s rewarded when her thigh meets the scalding heat of Maria’s center. A full-body shudder from Maria.

Maria rocks against Tsubasa’s thigh. The heat of her core plus the feeling of her ass against Tsubasa’s leg and her soft skin of her neck under Tsubasa’s mouth is almost too much. “Please,” Maria chokes out. “Please. I’ve been waiting so—” her words get choked off when Tsubasa takes the skin of her neck between her teeth. “—fucking long,” she breathes.

Tsubasa can’t help but greedily grab Maria’s tits again, who moans. “You are loud,” Tsubasa murmurs. She loves it. And she’s still hungry, fire licking up her belly and eating a pit in her gut, so she lets one hand wander down Maria’s back and grab hold of her ass.

Tsubasa feels Maria’s jaw tighten against her temple. Maria grinds harder on Tsubasa’s thigh. “Please,” she near-growls.

It’s so soon, but if Maria’s asking, Tsubasa will give her what she wants. Her finger, feather-light, traces the outside of Maria’s panties. Slowly, she gathers Maria’s panties to one side, fingertip glancing Maria’s slick heat. Tsubasa’s pulse skips a beat—she’s so wet. Maria grinds down on her hand, but Tsubasa moves it out of the way just in time. “Be still,” she says. Maria freezes. Tsubasa can hear and see her breaths speed up.

_Oh?_

She’s _sure_ that she’d be mortified if she wasn’t drunk and extremely turned on, but being drunk was the one way to completely nix Tsubasa’s reserve.

Tsubasa leans in close to Maria. “Good,” she whispers, lips brushing the shell of Maria’s ear. Maria shudders as Tsubasa pulls her panties to the side once more.

She traces around Maria’s lips and relishes every shudder that runs through Maria. Tsubasa dips a finger into Maria’s slick heat—god, she’s insanely drenched—but again takes it out before it goes inside. It’s been a while since she’s done anything like this. Even with her thoughts moving at the speed of molasses, Tsubasa knows enough to be hesitant.

But Maria would have none of it. “Please,” Maria whimpers. She wraps her arms around Tsubasa’s neck. “Tsubasa. Fuck me.”

That does Tsubasa in. She teases Maria’s entrance for a moment more, then plunges two fingers into Maria. No resistance. Maria’s back arches in and her head lolls against Tsubasa’s shoulder. Tsubasa can hear as well as feel the throaty moan Maria lets out against her collarbone.

Had this always felt so exciting? Tsubasa’s heart feels like it might beat out of her chest. She pulls her fingers out and thrusts back into Maria’s heat, feeling Maria’s hips rise to meet her when she does. A hand on her jaw pulls her down to meet Maria’s lips in a messy kiss.

She keeps going, establishes a pace that Maria matches with her body. Feeling Maria whimper into her mouth...feeling her slick heat clench around Tsubasa’s fingers...

Tsubasa could lose her mind.

Maria broke her lips away from Tsubasa’s. “Fuck, fuck fuck,” she chants, head lolling to the side. “I’m close, babe,” she breathes. “I’m so close.”

Even with her muddled processing, the word hits Tsubasa like a ton of bricks. She knows Maria’s tongue probably just slipped—that it’s hard to string sentences together when you’re being fucked into a kitchen counter—but babe?

Kanade called her that.

A sudden restless, roiling emotion fills Tsubasa. She tongues over Maria’s pulse point, and adds another finger so that she’s pumping in and out of Maria with three now.

Maria clenches around her and lets out a keening moan. She clutches Tsubasa’s back. “Fuck,” she whispers, voice breaking. Impossibly, she tightens around Tsubasa even more. And then with a great spasm, she’s over the edge.

Maria’s back arches off the counter. Tsubasa’s fingers are still deep inside her and she can feel Maria squeeze around her every time. It’s satisfying and hot and what Tsubasa wanted, but all at once Tsubasa feels too big and too small.

Staring at Maria, looking the most vulnerable Tsubasa’s ever seen her, she gets the sudden urge to turn Maria to face her, meet those stormy sea-green eyes. Something cold clenches inside Tsubasa when she realizes.

It’s like a bucket of icy cold water was poured over her head. She pulls her fingers out of Maria instead, once Maria’s ridden out the worst of her orgasm. Tsubasa turns the faucet on, squirts two pumps of soap into her hand and washes any trace of Maria off her fingers.

Maria is panting but otherwise silent. Tsubasa’s a little out of breath too. Her heart must be beating at a thousand beats per minute. She feels Maria’s eyes on her, boring a hole in the side of her face.

“Tsubasa—" Maria begins. But Tsubasa can’t think of the words right now. So she murmurs something like “I’m sorry” or “I have to go” or “this should not have happened.” And lets the sinking, burning feeling in the pit of her stomach propel her out the door.

Maria’s gaze burns hot on her back.

_~~~~~_

Tsubasa stays awake that entire night, staring at the ceiling. She forces her mind blank, but can’t escape the weight of the sickly feelings still churning in her gut.

In the morning, Tsubasa, for one, is mortified. Then she realizes just how much of a mistake it was.

They’re teammates. Friends. That’s what they should be—that’s what Maria’s place in her life is. Nothing more.

But then Tsubasa had to go and do _that_ and blur—or completely erase—just about all the lines there were.

She won’t let herself face Maria after that. She can’t. And so for a week, Tsubasa does her best to avoid Maria, ignoring the guilt eating her up from the inside.

During the week, there’s also the awkward dance of pretending it didn’t happen versus the undeniable physical evidence. Tsubasa didn’t think she’d sucked hard enough to bruise, but she’d chanced a look one day and paled when she saw the multiple purpling bruises spanning the expanse of Maria’s neck. (And looked away just as fast, because for all that Tsubasa was feeling, Maria was still too gorgeous, and Tsubasa can’t go back to not noticing that fact.)

Naturally, the other wielders didn’t take it too well.

_Kirika’s shriek when she’d first seen had Tsubasa and the others run to the break room. The very break room where it had happened._

_They burst in the room and Tsubasa was the first to speak. “Kirika! Is everything all right?” she froze when she saw Maria sitting on the couch with Kirika, a hand slapped over her neck, face completely red. Tsubasa snapped her gaze away, looking at anything else. Despite herself, she felt heat rising up her neck._

_“No!” Kirika shrieked. “Look at this!”_

_Naturally, the rest of the wielders crowded around her and Maria, who looks like she wanted to die on the spot. “Really, Kirika, it isn’t a big deal—"_

_“You look like you got attacked!” Kirika said, voice high. “Who could’ve done this? We’ve only been at base! Is there an intruder?”_

_Tsubasa directed her gaze to the ceiling. If there was anything up there, she was sure it was laughing its ass off at her._

_"Maria,” Hibiki said. “Can we see the wound?”_

_Maria took a breath. She met Tsubasa’s eyes for the first time since that night, and—oh, that was definitely a glare. “It’s not a wound,” she sighed, and let her arm fall._

_Hibiki squealed. “Maria!”_

_Shirabe turned bright red. Chris started sputtering, “What—who—?”_

_“See!” Kirika said triumphantly. “It’s a wound!”_

_Tsubasa hadn’t seen her handiwork and she blanched when it was revealed. In broad daylight, in a room with the younger wielders, the line of hickeys Tsubasa had left down the column of her neck looked a lot worse._

_“I have sensitive skin,” Maria mumbled._

_Hibiki was beaming. “Maria, I’m so excited for you! When did it happen? Who was it?”_

_“Why are you happy?” Kirika demanded. “Maria was attacked!”_

_Chris looked like she was about to pass out and Shirabe had her head buried in her hands._ _Tsubasa wondered why Hibiki knew what it meant while Kirika didn’t. Then she remembered how Miku and Hibiki had been living together since their first year, and concluded she didn’t want to know any more._

_Hibiki was on the brink of explaining the situation in terms that were going to be much too mortifying for the entire room, at Kirika’s behest, and Maria looked like she wanted to sink into the floor, so Tsubasa figured then was a great time to put an end to it._

_“That is enough,” Tsubasa cut through the other girls’ babbling. They all fell silent and turned to face her. Maria stared at her too, eyes just a little too wide. “It is her business. She will tell us if she wants to.” Tsubasa resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose. “And no, Kirika, she was not attacked. If you would like to know more, ask Shirabe.” Shirabe removed her hands from her face and gave Tsubasa a flat stare. Tsubasa stared back and gave her a small shrug. Honestly, that conversation may help the two._

_Tsubasa chanced a look back at Maria. Maria had trained her gaze on her lap, brow furrowed. Again._

Since then, Maria’s seemed distracted. Tsubasa only sees her briefly in hallways, and her gaze is always fixed at some point only she can see in the distance. She seems distracted on missions too.

Tsubasa realizes just how bad Maria is when she sees her collapsed and battered on the beach, where Garie left her. Elfnein looks up at Tsubasa. “The Ignite Module was too much for her,” she says. “There’s too much turmoil in her mind.”

And that’s when it hits Tsubasa, all at once. She doesn’t know why or when Maria’s gotten this bad, but it’s clear that Tsubasa hasn’t been there for her. She might’ve even contributed to this, somehow.

Ignoring her for a week and letting Maria go through something alone that bothered her enough to cause _this_ …

With a flick of her wrist, Garie could have killed Maria right then. Tsubasa knows this. Knows that if it’d served her purposes, she would have done it in an instant and Maria would be gone just like that. And in one way, it wouldn’t have been Tsubasa’s fault, but in another, it absolutely would have.

She’s been immature. Too immature—she _knows_ better than this when lives are on the line.

Tsubasa’s chest feels tight; shoulders too heavy.

Without a second thought, Tsubasa kneels next to Maria. She looks up at Elfnein. “May I…bring her back?” Elfnein’s eyes flick from her to Maria, then nods, a small smile appearing on her face.

“Take care of her,” she says. “Maria-san trusts you.”

Tsubasa has to suppress the urge to flinch. She nods instead and slides her arms underneath Maria and stands. She feels the others’ stares on her back, but pays them no heed.

She turns and heads back to the beach’s base with Maria in her arms. Tsubasa looks down at Maria’s face. There’s dirt clinging to her cheek. Tsubasa absently thinks she wants to wipe it off.

Maria stirs in Tsubasa’s arms. Her eyes still closed, she cuddles closer to Tsubasa’s torso, and Tsubasa is feeling too much. From guilt over treating Maria so badly to her worries about Carol and the Autoscorers, who seem to just be leading them all along by the nose to her nebulous fear of _something that she can’t put into words yet_ but has to do with how she keeps running from people like a coward.

She’s been letting those feelings make her neglect the people around her, and she needs to make amends. And this is as good a time to start as any.

Maria’s eyes flutter open as Tsubasa steps into one of the empty bunk rooms. “Tsubasa?” she breathes, confusing threading through her tone.

“You were hurt,” Tsubasa says. “I brought you here to rest.”

She lays Maria down on one of the beds.

Maria sits up. Her gaze flits to Tsubasa and then she trains it on the wall. “You didn’t need to do that.”

Tsubasa ignores the pang in her chest at the distance in Maria’s voice. “No. But I did anyway.”

“So you saved me again,” Maria’s voice comes out sharp. Jagged. Intending to hurt, but the broken edges betray her. “What do you want this time? A kiss on the cheek? Or something more?”

Tsubasa can’t help but flinch. The guilt that had been festering in her chest suffuses her body, warming her to the tips of her ears with shame. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, the words falling heavy out of her mouth.

Maria turns to Tsubasa. But instead of the fire Tsubasa expected to find, when Tsubasa searches Maria’s eyes she finds only uncertainty. That furrow in Maria’s brow is back. “It’s not your fault,” Maria says, an undercurrent of feeling in her voice. “You’re not the weak one.”

“What?” comes Tsubasa’s immediate response. That’s about the farthest-fetched thing Tsubasa has heard in a while.

Maria let out a bitter laugh. “Don’t pretend. You’re strong. You can take care of the people you care about. Me? I only hold everyone back, clinging to them for their strength. Fuck, I can’t even fight on my own.”

Her eyes are bright. The fire is back but at a cost.

 _Shit_ , Tsubasa thinks. She’s been so blind.

“Maria,” Tsubasa says. She wants to reach out and comfort the other woman. “You are one of the strongest people I have ever met.”

Maria blinks. Tsubasa sees a tear fall. That bitter laugh rips itself out of Maria’s throat again and it’s hollow. “You’re just saying that.”

Something prickles at Tsubasa’s skin; it’s not right how amazing people can have such low opinions of themselves.

“I do not just say things to say them,” is all Tsubasa says. Despite her reservations, she reaches out and wipes away the tear making its way down Maria’s cheek with the pad of her thumb. Maria’s brows raise ever-so-slightly. Her eyes find Tsubasa’s and stay there. Something delicate stretches between them and Tsubasa holds her breath—she won’t be the one to break it.

Maria, battered and bruised as she is, is still breathtakingly gorgeous. Tsubasa’s gaze drifts to her full lips and remembers. Wonders how it might feel to cup Maria’s chin in her palm and bring her soft lips to meet Tsubasa’s own.

Maria looks away, and Tsubasa remembers herself. Remembers that she already messed it up. Remembers that this just can’t happen, for the best of everyone involved.

Desire can just be relentless.

Tsubasa stands as fast as she can and walks to the door, emotion burning in her chest. She pauses right before the threshold, words finally clawing their way out of her throat. “I meant it when I said I was sorry,” she murmurs. “I really am. I should not have done that to you when we were both not thinking straight. I’d like nothing more than to be friends again.”

Silence. Tsubasa waits, heart pounding in her chest. She wishes she could see the expression on Maria’s face, but knows she needed to get out of that room.

“It was nothing.” Maria’s words cut through her thoughts. Her tone was...odd, but Tsubasa can’t place why. “Don’t worry about it.” she paused.

“I’m definitely up for being friends.”

Tsubasa nods—though she later realizes Maria couldn’t see—relieved the answer wasn’t the worst-case scenario she’s been considering. She leaves, shutting the door after her.

Maria’s words echo in her head.

It was nothing. They can be friends again.

That was the response Tsubasa had hoped so fervently for. But hearing it only made Tsubasa feel hollow.

The voice nags at Tsubasa. _You know why. You know why._

_~~~~~_

Desire really is relentless.

They’d come back to base for some rest after Maria defeated Garie. Some number of days after, Chris asked her if she wanted to shower and talk. Tsubasa didn’t think much of it—it was something they’d all gotten in the habit of to debrief missions.

She meets up with Chris in the halls and everything is fine until they come to the entrance of the shower room to see Maria standing outside, one hand on her hip, the other holding a rolled-up towel. Her hair is completely down, gorgeous pink tresses framing her face. It makes her look...soft. A vulnerable type of beauty.

(It makes Tsubasa think of the time she saw Maria even more vulnerable—stretched out below her, boneless and clenching around her fingers.)

“Tsubasa, hurry up!” comes Chris’ voice, and Tsubasa realizes she’s been left behind. Maria raises an eyebrow. Tsubasa’s mouth twitches into a rueful smile.

Maria and her have established a tentative friendship. After Maria had bested Garie, she’d returned to S.O.N.G. with a new lift to her shoulders and shine in her eyes. It looks good on her—really good—and furthermore, it for some reason resulted in Maria and Tsubasa returning back to normal.

Just like before, it’s very easy to talk to the other woman. Tsubasa’s always found herself seeking Maria’s company over anyone else, even outside of their slew of missions together, and she thinks Maria does the same. Maria understands where she’s coming from and vice versa; she understands feeling like you have the weight of the world squarely on your shoulders. She understands how it feels to constantly have something to protect—forced to be the strong one. There is no one who Tsubasa gets along with better, at the moment.

But the night they spent together has done its damage and they both know it. Sometimes during their training sessions, Tsubasa turns to catches Maria staring at her, eyes clouded with something dangerous. She knows also how she sometimes ends up staring at Maria’s body, trying to keep memories at bay.

(Maybe, despite herself, she wishes that it’d happen again.)

(She won't linger on that thought too long.)

Right now, staring at Maria’s curves as she makes her way to the shower, it takes all of Tsubasa’s power to force her mind blank. Tsubasa quickly makes her way to the stall next to Chris, away from Maria.

She’s still too conscious of Maria. The whispering of fabric sliding off a body. Maria’s appreciative hum when the shower turns on.

Chris vents about what’s happening with Hibiki, lone voice echoing indignantly through the shower room. Hibiki’s shitty dad.

Tsubasa scrubs at her body and absently thinks that she gets how Hibiki feels. The feeling of rejection by your own blood. How it can hurt.

She can hear Maria shifting in the shower next to her. The foamy noises as she lathers up her hair and scrubs at her scalp. Maria’s slow, deep intake and long exhale as the lather splatters against the shower floor.

Tsubasa usually finishes first, so she's surprised when the sound of Chris’ shower cuts off. “I gotta go talk with the commander about something,” Chris says.

“Is it one of your action movies that you pretend you do not love?” Tsubasa asks, amused.

Chris sputters. “No! It’s not! I just watch them to study the combat!” Tsubasa hears the sound of her shower opening. “Screw you, senpai!”

Tsubasa stifles a laugh, knowing it’d just incite Chris more. She waits until the bathroom door swings shut to let out an amused huff.

“She’s definitely going to talk about a movie,” says Maria. Her shower shuts off too. Tsubasa can’t help the pang of disappointment in her chest, and immediately feels guilty.

She won't think about it.

“Will you keep me company while I do my skincare routine?” asks Maria. “It can take a while. Always nicer to have a friend here while I do.”

Maria’s voice curls around friend. Tsubasa wonders what she means, knows she's decided not to read into it, but her pulse picks up anyway. “Of course,” she says simply. She ignores the flutter in her gut. Rinses herself one last time, turns the shower off, dries off. She changes into her clean clothes with quick, practiced movements and exits the shower.

Tsubasa promptly stops in her tracks. Across from her, sitting in front of the vanity, is Maria. Clad in just a towel.

“Sorry,” Maria says. She actually does sound sheepish. “I forgot to bring a change of clothes.”

Tsubasa’s throat is suddenly very dry. Her eyes drink in Maria’s curves and the gorgeous flushed color to her skin. How her hair frames her face and falls around her body. “It is fine,” she says after a delay.

The inconvenient voice in her mind questions whether it was normal for friends to apologize for being half-naked around each other.

She meets Maria’s eyes in the mirror and just knows that Maria had seen her looking. Tsubasa smiles, a bit sheepish herself. Some color rises to Maria’s cheeks. “Just...get over here,” Maria says. She points to the chair next to the vanity.

Tsubasa complies, and spends the next few minutes in some version of heaven or hell where a sexy woman that you had a drunken one night stand with is right in front of you clad in just a towel and you can't do anything about...anything. And literally anything she does is hot, and Tsubasa won't think about it anymore. Really.

Her face is so warm. It's definitely not just from the shower.

“Tsubasa,” Maria says softly. Hearing her name from Maria right now sends her mind back and makes Tsubasa bite her tongue. “Can you hold my hair back while I do my face?”

It took all of Tsubasa’s self control not to show a visible reaction. “Yes.” she measures her steps so she walks slowly behind Maria. Like a normal friend would.

When she gets there, she looks at Maria in the mirror and marvels. How can someone be so...

The wet hair clinging to the side of Maria’s face emphasizes how her features are sculpted yet soft at the same time. Her hair goes down, down, down, some falling right between her—

There’s a weight on her stomach. Tsubasa looks down and sees the top of Maria’s head. In the mirror. Maria’s eyes are closed and Tsubasa can’t help but stare at her lips. Remember how soft and full they felt on hers.

So Tsubasa gently gathers Maria’s voluminous hair. It's wet but Tsubasa can tell Maria takes good care of it—it's smooth to the touch. Her fingers brush Maria’s neck, and hears the other woman’s sharp intake of breath.

Tsubasa knows. She knows this is dangerous. Knows what this is leading to, despite her own determination. There’s been too much tension between them lately. Maria is incredibly sexy, and Tsubasa knows Maria thinks the same of herself. It’s just natural. Even for friends.

 _You wouldn’t do this with Chris_ , comes the voice. _Chris is sexy too._

Tsubasa huffs. Chris...Chris is different. She feels responsible for the younger woman.

But Maria?

“Thinking about something?” Maria asks. Her eyes have opened and they’re staring up at Tsubasa.

“No,” Tsubasa says on instinct. She runs her hand through Maria’s hair, trying to catch her composure. “Your hair is gorgeous,” she blurts.

So much for composure.

Maria flushes. Looks away. “Thank you,” she mumbles. She pauses, and her voice is halting. “So are you, you know.”

Tsubasa’s hands in Maria’s hair freeze, mind sputtering to a stop. Maria is still. They stare at each other, the current that’s been passing between them since that night finally rising to the surface.

The fire in Maria’s eyes...it still reminds her of Kanade. But she’s realizing more and more that it’s Maria’s own fire. Unique.

“Tsubasa,” Maria whispers. And then her fingers curl around Tsubasa’s collar. She pulls Tsubasa down, until they’re eye level.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” Maria says, voice low and igniting a thousand little flames in Tsubasa’s gut. “And I won’t believe you.”

Tsubasa bites down on her tongue again, hard. Maria’s eyes are laser-focused on her. But she’s trembling.

Maria’s not as confident as she seems. She’s bold but vulnerable. Strong and gorgeous yet flawed. Tsubasa knows she shouldn’t. She really shouldn’t. She knows how much turmoil this causes her when she can think straight. Only, Maria’s breaths are fluttering against Tsubasa’s lips, and she can’t find it in her to deny her.

She lifts Maria’s chin and finally brings her lips to Maria’s.

They’re soft and full and warm. Maria twists her collar even more, sighing into the kiss and pulling Tsubasa closer. Her breath is even warmer in Tsubasa’s mouth. Tsubasa’s stomach flips and she can hear her heartbeat in her ears.

But they couldn’t do anything here. Tsubasa doesn’t think she can handle anyone knowing about this just yet. She breaks away from Maria’s lips. “Get up,” Tsubasa says, voice gravelly. “I would not want someone to find us here, doing what we are about to do.”

Maria bites down hard on her lip. She takes a shaky breath in. “I don’t know,” Maria said, meeting her gaze. “Maybe that’d be really hot.”

Tsubasa raises a brow. Maria is full of surprises. “Maybe,” she says. “But not now,” she threads her fingers through Maria’s hair again. “I was thinking we could go somewhere more private.”

Heart pounding, whatever’s left of Tsubasa’s brain screams at her, but she silences it. She just knows that she wants Maria. And she’s tired of waiting.

Maria’s up and pressing against Tsubasa, who short circuits at the feeling of her curves against her. Her lips meet Tsubasa’s in a crushing kiss. “Yes,” Maria says breathlessly when they part. “I would love to.”

_~~~~~_

And that’s how Tsubasa finds herself fucking Maria into her door.

Maria has her hand covering her mouth, trying to actually keep quiet this time. It isn’t working that well, but it’s insanely hot.

Maria is completely naked and Tsubasa can’t think. She remembers them speed-walking back to Tsubasa’s room, Maria holding her towel around her. She remembers getting into her room and shutting the door so fast that it slammed. She remembers Maria’s gasp when she met her lips in a bruising kiss, pressing her up against the door. She remembers when Maria let the towel fall. It got hazy after that.

Kanade was right when she said Tsubasa was a disaster lesbian.

“I’m—fuck—close,” Maria says, voice wavering with the impact of Tsubasa pumping into her. She looks drunk with pleasure, head tipped back. And Tsubasa knows she feels good. Maria’s so wet that Tsubasa feels like her fingers might slide out completely if she doesn’t pay enough attention.

“You feel,” Maria pants. “So, so good.” her legs tighten around Tsubasa’s waist and her heavy-lidded gaze meets Tsubasa’s. Maria’s eyes eat her up, and Tsubasa shivers. When Maria crashes her lips to hers and licks her way inside of Tsubasa’s mouth, Tsubasa can’t do anything but moan.

It’s everything Tsubasa could’ve daydreamed about—if she’d allowed herself—and more.

Then Maria breaks the kiss. She curls into Tsubasa’s shoulder, and with one last “fuck,” she clenches around Tsubasa’s fingers.

Maria breathlessly pants into Tsubasa’s neck, breath scorching hot. Her body trembles as Tsubasa feels her ride out spasm after spasm. Tsubasa bites her lip. She’s known Maria is hot, but Tsubasa is quickly realizing just how insanely sexy she actually is. And how little control she has if Maria wants to do something more than platonic.

The orgasm has settled down. Tsubasa feels a pair of lips press to her neck lightly. “I appreciate you not dropping me,” comes Maria’s murmur.

“But it’s okay to put me down now.” Something about the kiss to her neck makes Tsubasa’s face flush. “Sorry,” Tsubasa said. She lowers Maria and lets go of her thighs. “I did not notice.”

Maria establishes her footing. Her arms are still wrapped around Tsubasa’s neck, and Tsubasa can’t help but glance down to meet her eyes. They’re piercing and hungry, hooded with lust. Tsubasa’s tongue darts out to wet her lips.

Maria’s gaze focuses in on Tsubasa’s lips. “You didn’t even notice that you were holding my full weight while fucking me?”

Tsubasa’s a little confused as to what Maria means, but she knows she’s wet. Very wet. Maybe drenched. And the dangerous tone of Maria’s voice only makes the ache between her legs even more urgent. “No?”

Maria glances at something above Tsubasa’s head and releases a breath. “This is why it’s been so hard to work with you,” Maria mutters.

Tsubasa frowns. “I did not mean to upset—”

She’s cut off by Maria’s lips meeting hers in a bruising kiss, her arms tightening around Tsubasa’s neck. Maria licks Tsubasa’s lower lip and almost immediately, Tsubasa parts her lips to let her in. The feeling of Maria’s tongue inside Tsubasa’s mouth makes Tsubasa groan out loud.

Maria breaks the kiss and Tsubasa just stares at her, chest heaving. Her body is burning up.

“You’re so incredibly hot,” Maria says, also a little out of breath. “And you don’t even know it.”

Her arm slips out from where it was locked behind Tsubasa’s neck and Tsubasa feels Maria fist her hand in the fabric of Tsubasa’s button-up, right above her chest. The other woman looks up at Tsubasa under her eyelashes. “Can I touch you?” she whispers.

Tsubasa blinks.

She didn’t expect Maria to want to touch _her_. And even if she can let herself have sex with Maria, something about Maria returning the favor feels too dangerous. An instinct deep within Tsubasa completely rejects that idea, no matter how much Tsubasa’s body wants it.

So Tsubasa steps away. She puts her hand over the one fisting itself in her shirt. “It is okay,” she says. “I do not need it.”

Maria stays where she is. “Really?” she says, voice laced with doubt. “You seem like you do.”

Tsubasa swallows thickly. How it would be so easy to let Maria strip off her clothes and see just how much she needed it. Her core throbs. But Tsubasa won’t yield. Her presence of mind is coming back to her.

Tsubasa shakes her head. “No. But thank you. You are a great friend.”

Maria steps back. Her brow furrows. “Yeah. Of course.”

Tsubasa’s eyes search hers. She doesn’t recognize anything. There’s only that furrow in her brow.

Her gaze wandering lower reminds Tsubasa that Maria didn’t bring any clothes with her. Heat rises to her cheeks and neck. Her eyes flick to Maria’s towel, crumpled on the floor.

“Uh. Let me get you something to wear.”

Maria blinks. “Ah. Right.”

Tsubasa opens one of her drawers and looks inside. She reaches out and grabs the first article of clothing that looks like it would suitably cover Maria.

“Here,” she says, turning around. She holds the hoodie out to Maria. “If it is too short I can get you something else.”

For some reason, a flush rises to Maria’s cheeks. She gingerly takes the blue hoodie from Tsubasa and slips it on.

Tsubasa clears her throat. The way Maria looks in her hoodie—curves and breasts filling out the shape in a way Tsubasa never had herself—is a little too enticing. “It was a Christmas gift from the Commander. It is not my style, so I never wear it outside of here anyway.”

“Thanks,” Maria says, still flushed. “I’ll go now, I think.”

Tsubasa nods. Her tongue feels too heavy, like she has a lot more to say but no means to say it. So she just watches Maria as she turns the door handle.

Maria hesitates in the doorway. She looks back at Tsubasa, who suddenly feels incredibly dumb just standing there. Maria’s brow is furrowed again. She opens her mouth, then closes it. And then Tsubasa is staring at an empty doorway.

Tsubasa releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding in a slow stream. She wasn’t quite sure how that had just happened. A complex mass of emotions fogged up her brain, and Tsubasa sat down on her bed and buried her face in her hands,.

They still smelled of Maria.

Tsubasa let out a rueful chuckle. There was no going back. No alcohol to explain this away.

(To Maria? To herself? She was unsure.)

_~~~~~_

A few days after that afternoon, Maria was assigned to accompany Tsubasa to her childhood home.

To say the least, the journey had felt surreal.

Maria yelling at her father? That was even more surreal.

“You’re her father, right?”

The fire in Maria’s eyes was again familiar. “Then why don’t you—”

Tsubasa had cut her off. And then Phara appeared and promptly knocked Tsubasa out.

Right after Tsubasa awakened, Maria challenged her father once more. Saying things Tsubasa used to think but never had the courage to say. _Aren’t those rather cold words for your wounded daughter?_

Now they’re walking away, Maria ranting all the while.

Tsubasa remembers being a small child, left alone for days at a time. Thinks about how rare it was that she would see her father. And about how everything turned upside down when she learned she could wield her Ame no Habakiri, and then again when she learned her father wasn’t even her father.

She thinks about how long it took her to trust other people after that. How much Kanade and Genjuro had to work to teach her how to function correctly in the world.

Tsubasa thinks about how if she’d had someone like Maria to speak up for her, or god, even if she’d spoken up for herself, how she would have been spared that crushing loneliness and mental distress.

Maria is still ranting. Tsubasa feels empty.

She spots a familiar door. Refuge.

Tsubasa pulls it open. “This was my room when I was little,” she says. “We can talk inside.”

Maria looks inside and gasps. “An enemy attack?” she readies a fighting stance. “Who did this?”

Tsubasa looks inside and sees clothes and other debris scattered around her room. Exactly as she’d left it. Her cheeks flush. “No, um, this is my fault.” she gazes at the mess. “But I cannot believe he has not cleaned it in ten years...”

Maria makes a small noise that Tsubasa thinks could be a scoff or a laugh. Cheeks still hot, Tsubasa grabs the nearest piece of clothing to her and folds it neatly. She suddenly wishes she’d taken the time to pick up ten years ago, the night she left.

Tsubasa cleans, and Maria explores her room. Asking little questions about pictures and trinkets. Making jokes at Tsubasa’s expense that have no bite.

It’s...nice. Tsubasa hasn’t had many conversations about herself. People might ask about her family or her past, but never about her. Few really had. Hibiki’s still a little too shy around her, in that regard, and Chris just isn’t the person to ask personal questions out of the blue. The last person to do this with her was Kanade.

The thought causes a pang in her chest. Tsubasa is surprised but relieved that it’s less painful than usual.

She is realizing that Maria is significantly different than Kanade, yet Tsubasa shares a similar sense of understanding—and possibly trust—with her. Maybe it’s the genuine curiosity shining in Maria’s eyes. The way her fingers lightly trace the walls as she walks around the room. Or how Tsubasa’s still thinking about how Maria defended her to her father.

Tsubasa’s thoughts are burdened, but she wants to share. Thinking about the various secrets of her family and her own shortcomings is never good for her. She usually clams up. Disappears for a day or two. But today Tsubasa feels open, words bubbling up in her throat. Something about Maria right now makes Tsubasa feel like she can handle anything Tsubasa might throw at her.

So Tsubasa, for the first time, tells someone about the real circumstances of her birth.

The secret is heavy in her chest, and it falls heavy off her tongue when she tells Maria. She doesn’t want to look at the other woman. She knows Maria would never think less of her for this, but the weight of her own shame is too heavy.

“I have devoted myself to being a tool, a sword, rather than a human.” Tsubasa lets out a stream of breath. The words had come out robotically. Maybe from the number of times Tsubasa’s repeated them to herself, especially lately. “Even though I know that will make him hate me more.”

There’s silence from Maria. Tsubasa would normally try to meet her eyes, see what she might be thinking, but she’s spent. Hot shame still pounds in her chest and burns the tips of her ears. It is hard to feel good talking about how you’re the biological child of your grandfather and your mother.

She hears the muffled thump of something hitting the floor. Then her body automatically stiffens when she feels a pair of arms wrap around her tight.

“I’m so sorry, Tsubasa,” Maria whispers. Her voice turns rougher. “You didn’t deserve any of that.”

The gentleness in Maria’s voice combined with the strength in her words; her soft yet fierce embrace, rooting Tsubasa to the spot—it all completely undoes her. A sob rips its way out of Tsubasa’s throat.

She buries her face in Maria’s shoulder and cries silently, but harder than she has in a long while. A mix of stale sadness and freeing relief burns in her throat.

Tsubasa can’t remember the last time she let her emotions go like this.

Maria’s floral scent envelops her the entire time. Her hand makes soothing circles on Tsubasa’s back as it shakes with the force of her silent sobs. She holds her firmly, and it warms Tsubasa to her core.

Tsubasa doesn’t cry for long. She’s never liked the feeling of losing control of her emotions, and Maria’s comfort makes it easier for her to come back to herself. “I apologize,” she says, taking in a shaky breath. She sits up straight and wipes her eyes. “I should not have burdened you with that.”

Something flashes in Maria’s eyes. Tsubasa feels her hand dart forward and grab her wrist.

“Don’t ever,” the fire burns. “Apologize for that.”

Maria’s gaze is unflinching. Tsubasa’s cheeks warm for some reason. She swallows. “It felt nice to tell you, but I understand it is a lot to take in,” she amends.

“Don’t,” Maria says, voice firm. “Letting me share this burden is an honor. An honor that breaks my heart, because of what you’ve had to go through.” her hand slides down Tsubasa’s wrist and curls around her palm. “You didn’t deserve a single thing those shitty men did to you, regardless of their intentions. You didn’t deserve,” Maria’s voice breaks off. “To get this idea in your head that you’re just a tool to be used. From when you were five years old.”

The pain in Maria’s voice is for Tsubasa, but it’s there for something else too. Tsubasa can see it in how Maria’s eyes slide to the floor, unfocused.

And then Tsubasa remembers that Maria has been used as a tool since she was a child too. An orphan whose only purpose was to fight and learn how to wield a Symphogear. Who was molded and abused into compliance. A child who had to watch her sister die before her eyes. Like how Tsubasa had to watch Kanade.

Maybe, they’re a lot more similar than Tsubasa even thought.

Tsubasa forgets about her reservations about physical affection. Maria needs this. Her fingers interlace with Maria’s, and it’s Tsubasa’s turn to tentatively wrap an arm around Maria and let her rest her head on her shoulder. Maria doesn’t cry, but she lets out a long sigh and squeezes Tsubasa’s hand until Tsubasa feels the blood leaving her fingers.

“We’re a mess,” Maria finally says, with a rueful laugh. Something floats in Tsubasa’s chest at the “we.”

She pushes it down. “Just a bit,” Tsubasa says. Maria sits back. Her hair is a bit mussed. Tsubasa resists the urge to run her fingers through it. To trace her jaw. Her lips.

She looks up and Maria’s eyes are fixed on her. Her eyes flit around Tsubasa’s face, and Tsubasa can’t help but feel like Maria’s drinking her in.

Maybe Tsubasa’s okay with that. The ever-present guilt is still there in her chest. So she won’t do anything. But Maria is just so gorgeous, from the set line of her jaw to how her hair frames her face to the way her blouse opens around her chest.

And now Tsubasa is trying to avoid staring at her chest.

“Tsubasa! Maria!” Ogawa’s voice crackles in Tsubasa’s ear. She winces. Maria’s hand goes to her headset. “We have a situation!”

“We hear you. We’re on our way,” Tsubasa says. She and Maria share a charged glance. Tsubasa stands and holds her hand out to Maria. “Ready?”

“Ready.” Maria takes her hand and Tsubasa pulls her up.

Tsubasa fails to ignore how nice Maria’s hand feels clutched in hers.

_~~~~~_

That night, Tsubasa stares up at the ceiling. The events of the day replay in her head. She worries for what’s next to come. If what Phara said was right...they’ve been playing into Carol and the Autoscorers’ hands all along.

Tsubasa hears shifting from next to her. She looks to her right to see Maria sitting up. The girl grabs the hem of her shirt and shucks it off in one motion. Tsubasa gapes. Her face suddenly feels like it’s on fire.

Maria looks down at Tsubasa. Their eyes meet. In the moonlight, Tsubasa can see the beginnings of a flush high on Maria’s cheeks. “I didn’t know you were still awake,” Maria says, voice a bit too loud for the still summer night. “It’s hot tonight.”

Tsubasa feels like she’s burning up. “It is.”

Maria’s sea green eyes are visible even in soft moonlight filtering in through the screen doors. Tsubasa tries to keep her eyes fixed on them. But her gaze wanders despite herself, drinking in the sight of Maria’s toned—yet somehow still soft and inviting—biceps and back muscles. Tsubasa swallows.

Maria sighs. “Look, Tsubasa.” she turns to face her completely. Tsubasa tries so hard to not stare at her chest. And fails. Maria huffs a sigh. “See, this is what I mean!”

Maria’s cheeks are red and she’s looking off to the side. Tsubasa’s ears go hot with shame. “I’m sorry,” she says, though for the umpteenth time she doesn’t know exactly what she is apologizing for. She suspects it has something to do with the electric tension crackling between them.

“Don’t be sorry,” Maria says, with another sigh. “I’m not.” she untangles herself from her covers, baring her legs. Tsubasa directs her gaze to the ceiling so she doesn't stare at Maria’s thighs.

Tsubasa’s pulse pounds in her ears. “For what?” she asks. But she thinks she knows the answer.

She can hear Maria moving closer. “Us. How we can’t keep our eyes or hands off each other.”

Heat pools in Tsubasa’s belly. She coughs into her fist to dispel the images forming in her head. When she looks back, Maria’s looming over her and Tsubasa’s tongue feels like it is much too large for her mouth.

“Tsubasa, I—" Maria begins. Her hair falls in a curtain around them. “I don’t know what this is. But I know that you have a lot of reservations and hangups about...this stuff. And I respect that.”

She hadn’t been prepared for this. All Tsubasa can do is stare up at Maria.

“But I also just want you so bad.” Maria’s voice gets gravelly. “All the time.”

Tsubasa feels Maria’s warm thighs settle on either side of her waist. And Tsubasa officially can’t breathe. Can’t think. A big part of her wants to run far, far away. But the furrow is back in Maria’s brow and half of Tsubasa wants to smooth it and the other half just wants to pull her down into a scorching kiss.

She settles for a slow blink.

She’s such a useless lesbian.

“You, Tsubasa Kazanari, can’t just fuck a girl and expect her to get over it,” Maria’s voice gets a little breathier. She slowly grinds her searing heat on Tsubasa’s hipbone, and Tsubasa almost whimpers. “Can’t expect to be able to train with her, without her daydreaming about you bending her over one of the railings and fucking her right there.”

Tsubasa is screwed.

She tries to cling to a last semblance of resistance, but in the back of her mind she knows it’s futile. Not when her heart pounds in her ears so loudly. Not with the heat suffusing her body, a familiar fog clouding her mind.

“You need to at least take responsibility,” Maria says. “Regularly.”

Tsubasa sucks in a breath.

Maria isn’t looking at her. Her arms are shaking a little from where they’re planted on either side of Tsubasa’s head. Which is odd, because Tsubasa knows firsthand that Maria’s arms are strong enough to hold her weight up. The shaking is not from physical weakness.

And then it hits her. She’s suspected for a while, but now she knows.

Maria is scared.

She’s as conflicted about whatever’s been happening between them as Tsubasa, and she must have been scared and unsure this entire time. From the very first time she approached Tsubasa right after their show to right now. Tsubasa recalls the creases in her brow. The trembling in her fingers.

Maria’s been afraid, but she still decides to do something about it.

Tsubasa thinks that deep down, Maria is still the girl in her mother and Dr. Ver’s clutches who is terrified of intimacy of any kind. And that’s what makes her cast any thoughts of Kanade out of her mind, if only just for this moment.

The last thing Tsubasa wants to do is betray the trust Maria is putting in her right now. So she reaches up, threads her fingers through Maria’s hair, and brings her down to her lips.

The kiss is full of want but soft. Their lips move against each other slowly and something _swoops_ in Tsubasa’s gut. Tsubasa’s cheek tingles where Maria’s hand cups it.

When they break apart, Tsubasa feels dazed. Maria looks like she feels the same, panting and staring at Tsubasa.

“Well,” Maria pants, running a hand through her hair. It’s sexy. Anything she does at this point, Tsubasa thinks, would be sexy. “Would you believe me if I said I’ve wanted you to fuck me all day? You were hot when you took Phara down.”

A laugh bubbles up from Tsubasa’s chest. She untangles her legs from her covers and then easily flips their position so that Maria is underneath her, eyes searching and hungry, mouth parted. “I think you might just have to show me,” she whispers before she leaves a line of searing kisses all the way down Maria’s body.

Maria’s responding gentle laugh turns into a gasp.

_~~~~~_

It’s only been a few days since Maria and Tsubasa agreed to make their nights together a regular occurrence, but so much had happened since then. They’d defeated Carol. Saved the world yet again. And Maria had almost died.

That had scared Tsubasa like nothing had for a long time. When she’d heard Maria say she hoped she could sing with Tsubasa all night, a note of finality in her voice, time had slowed down. Cold, sickly tendrils of fear constricted around her chest with a horrible feeling of déjà vu. And then Tsubasa had watched the Chateau explode in slow motion.

She hadn’t even gotten to hold Maria like she did with Kanade. Tsubasa remembers feeling completely unmoored. Directionless, before the hot, angry tears stung her eyes. She hadn’t known what exactly she was angry at, but she’d directed it at Carol to distract herself from the sinking, empty feeling in her gut.

Then Maria had come back. And Tsubasa had felt so many things that she couldn’t even begin to identify.

That had scared her too.

Tsubasa’s been in her room for most of the two days afterward. She wants to join the others outside sometimes, but then she hears the echo of Maria’s laugh or the pitch of her indignant voice and Tsubasa’s body goes cold.

“Senpai!” comes a muffled voice outside Tsubasa’s door. “We’re going to visit Elfnein, are you coming?”

“Not right now, Yukine,” Tsubasa says. She aimlessly flips through a magazine. “I plan to visit later.”

“What, so you can hide from us some more?”

Tsubasa blinks at the edge to Chris’ voice. She gets up from her bed and opens the door.

Chris looks good. Light. Tsubasa’s so glad for how much she’s changed since she joined them two years ago.

But she’s also currently mad at Tsubasa.

Chris pokes a finger into Tsubasa’s chest. “What’s the deal, huh? You look like you haven’t even showered since we fought Carol.” Chris wrinkles up her nose. “And it smells like you really haven’t.”

Tsubasa’s cheeks flush. Does she really smell that bad? “I’ve been busy.”

“Doing what? Reading magazines?” Chris barks out a laugh. “Come on...we all don’t have work to do now. This is the least busy we’ve been for years. So what’s going on?”

Tsubasa looks down. “It’s nothing. I just need some time to myself.”

“Even away from Maria?”

Tsubasa’s head shoots up. Chris’ expression looks victorious somehow. “Wh—what are you suggesting?”

“Oh, come on,” Chris says. “She’s the only one you can bear to be around for indefinite periods of time. When you get tired of us you go off with her. But you’re not even with her. So there’s something up.”

Tsubasa releases a breath. So Chris doesn’t know about their arrangement. That’s good. “You don’t know that.”

“But you basically just confirmed it, senpai.” Chris grins. “Anyway,” her voice gets slower. More deliberate. “If you ever need to talk to us, we’ll be here, all right?” Chris looks at the doorframe, cheeks furiously red. “We’ll always be here.” The last words are mumbled.

Tsubasa can’t help but chuckle. She wraps her arms around Chris and hugs her to her chest for a short moment. “Thank you, Yukine.”

Chris is bright red and stammering something about how she’s just thinking about the wellbeing of the team. Tsubasa just laughs, more than she has for the past two days.

When Chris leaves, Tsubasa’s thoughts are a lot less burdened.

Because she’s been through this before, she can’t deny what’s been happening. Or, not after Chris shoved it in her face like she just did. Tsubasa knows she’s been putting up walls again because she’s afraid. She's just been reminded of how painful it is to have a person ripped away from you.

And she's also learned that if she hides out and distances herself forever, she’ll have already lost what she’s so afraid of losing.

Tsubasa sleeps better that night.

Her dreams are filled with pink hair.

_~~~~~_

She starts functioning as a normal human being again. Going outside her room, taking showers, making food.

(Of course, she doesn’t even think to clean.)

“Tsubasa-san! You’re back!” Tsubasa turns around to see Kirika bouncing toward her. “Hi, Kirika,” she says, a smile tugging the corners of her lips. “How are you?”

“We’re having a party tomorrow!” Kirika grabs Tsubasa’s hands and gives her puppy eyes. “Will you come? Pretty please?”

Tsubasa would ask what the party is for, but it doesn’t matter. Someone was always throwing a party when any of them had break time, it seemed. She’d just find out when she was there. “Of course,” Tsubasa says, smiling down at Kirika.

Kirika squeals. “Yes! Awesome! We’ll see you there!” she gives Tsubasa a quick hug and then sprints down the hallway.

Tsubasa watches her run down the hallway, a fond smile on her lips. Kirika’s such a good kid.

_~~~~~_

When Tsubasa arrives at the location Kirika texted her, she gapes. Because through the doorway is a huge sign that says "Happy birthday, Maria!"

Kirika is not a good kid.

“Tsubasa-san!” comes a loud, happy voice. It’s Hibiki. Odd to see her in a dress, as cute and yellow as hers is. Tsubasa thinks she’s more suited to casual clothes, or maybe even a suit. Her gait is a little...unsteady. “You came,” she sighs, swaying a little. “Maria-san was worried you wouldn’t!”

“I—” Tsubasa begins. She looks up then, and meets sea green eyes.

And just like that, Tsubasa’s breath is stolen away.

Maria’s wearing a loose blue dress. Gorgeous turquoise earrings that match her eyes dangle from her ears. Her hair is half-pinned back, exposing the beautiful lines of her collarbone and neck. Tsubasa’s eyes flit over her lips, which look even softer than usual.

“A little underdressed, aren’t we?” comes Maria’s teasing voice.

Tsubasa’s glad that she’d chosen to wear her blue button-down instead of a sweatshirt. “Well, if someone,” Tsubasa casts a quick glare at Kirika, who lets out a little _eep_ , “had told me what this party was for, things would be a lot different.”

Maria’s stare is hot on Tsubasa’s face. Tsubasa looks away.

“Enough of this!” says Hibiki. She grabs Tsubasa’s wrist. “Let’s get you something to drink,” she says, a glint in her eye.

She pulls Tsubasa to a table. There are a variety of drinks, from juice—which is what she hopes Shirabe and Kirika are drinking—to beer, to hard soda, to sake.

“Take your pick!” Hibiki says cheerfully.

“Must I?” Tsubasa mutters, but she’s somewhat looking forward to it. It isn’t often that she gets to drink with friends, and it’s been a stressful few weeks. So she takes the sake.

“We were about to play a game?” Chris asks after Tsubasa makes her way to the misshapen circle her friends have arranged themselves into.

“Yes!” Kirika said. “It’s called Paranoia!”

“Paranoia? That sounds scary,” Chris shudders. “You know I hate horror stuff!”

“Oh, it’s far from horror,” Shirabe says, a glint mirroring Kirika’s in her eyes.

“Basically, we go around in the circle,” starts Kirika. “When it’s your turn, you have to whisper a question to the person to your right. But!” she exclaims with a grin. “The question must be a specific type of question! One that can only be answered with the name of someone in our group, since that’s the only answer the person can give!”

“So, I could ask Kiri-chan, ‘who is your favorite senpai?’ None of you would hear my question, but Kirika would say her answer—the name of someone in this group—out loud and you would hear that,” Shirabe clarifies.

“Then we flip a coin, and if it comes up heads, we tell you all the question! If it’s tails, you and the person keep the question a secret forever.”

“That sounds so fun!” Hibiki exclaims. “Let’s play! Kirika, ask me one!”

“That’s not how the game works, Hibiki!” yells Chris.

Miku sighs. “She never listens.” But Tsubasa sees the smile playing at her lips and the way her fingers interlace with Hibiki’s.

She looks at Maria. Which was a mistake, because now she doesn’t want to look away.

Maria’s smiling, wide and gentle, full of affection. Her hair being half-pinned means Tsubasa can see her unobscured face, from her elegant jawline up to her cheekbones to her long eyelashes.

Something plunges in Tsubasa’s gut. She looks away, because she knows it’s not the time to be getting horny.

(She doesn’t recognize how it doesn’t feel like lust.) 

_~~~~~_

Paranoia had been fun. Almost too fun. The room had fallen into a comfortable silence, its inhabitants thoroughly tired out.

“My stomach hurts,” Chris groans. “I laughed too much.”

“There’s no such thing!” laughs Hibiki. “But I guess mine hurts too.”

The sake’s given Tsubasa a pleasant buzz. She’s lying on her back, gazing at the cream-colored ceiling. There’s a tiny spider crawling across. Tsubasa watches it as her friend’s voices fade into the background.

She feels a small smile stretch across her face. Tsubasa had really gotten lucky when she met these people. To think that just a few years ago she hadn’t known any of them. To think that if she’d given up like she wanted to after Kanade died, she would have never met any of them.

She knows now that Genjuro was right. Kanade would have never wanted Tsubasa to follow her. She would want Tsubasa to be happy, over all else. It causes a pang of sadness in Tsubasa’s heart.

“Hey.”

Tsubasa looks up, into sea-green eyes. “Everyone else has left.”

Tsubasa sits up. Her mouth is dry and she’s not sure if it’s from the sake or how beautiful Maria looks. Most likely both. “I can leave.”

“Do you want to?” Maria’s gaze roots her to the spot.

Tsubasa’s silent, heat creeping up her neck. She’s embarrassed for hiding for so long. But now she’s here and she doesn’t know what she wants besides that—to stay.

“Will you stay then? Watch a movie with me?” Maria asks. Tsubasa can faintly smell the alcohol on her breath. “I miss you.”

Despite herself, Tsubasa inhales through her nose. _I miss you too_ , is what she should say.

Instead she just nods, and something in Maria’s face clears. The other woman gets up, probably to look for the remote.

(Tsubasa tries not to stare at her ass. She really does.)

The TV turns on and Maria turns to Tsubasa. Her lips curl into a smirk when she sees where exactly Tsubasa’s eyes were fixed. “See something you like?” she sits on the couch and motions for Tsubasa to do the same. “You know, we could always just skip the movie.”

The statement makes heat pool in Tsubasa’s belly. But something inside her floors the brakes. “Later.” Tsubasa is going to continue, to explain, but stops.

She doesn’t know what she’s feeling. Why she doesn’t just want to go to bed with Maria after everything. She doesn’t know what she wants instead, but she knows that she does need time with Maria. To remind herself she’s not going away.

Heat suffuses Tsubasa’s face, and she realizes she doesn’t know how to say that aloud. So she stands and walks to the couch.

Maria grabs her hand when she nears. “Hey,” she says. Tsubasa’s eyes meet hers. They’re full of understanding. “We can just watch.”

Her hand is so warm. Tsubasa squeezes it on instinct. Nods. Ignores the thump of her heart and settles into the couch’s soft cushions, shoulder lightly brushing Maria’s.

Maria doesn’t let her hand go when she starts the movie. Tsubasa is glad. Throughout the entire movie, she maps out the back of Maria’s hand with the pad of her thumb. It’s reassuring. Grounding.

In the last half of the movie, when some plotpoint about alternate time periods is being revealed, Tsubasa feels a soft weight on her shoulder. She turns to look, and Maria’s hair tickles her nose. _Ah_.

She feels very warm. Tsubasa thinks she could just sink into the couch and stay there for the next few days.

After a few moments of silence, Maria speaks. Her voice is so quiet that Tsubasa wouldn’t have been able to hear her if she was even a little further away. “I’m sorry.”

She isn’t even sure if she did hear Maria right. “What?” Tsubasa says dumbly.

Maria huffs. “I said, ‘I’m sorry’,” she repeats. “I know I...scared you.” Her voice tapers off again.

Against her will, Tsubasa is dragged back to that moment. Of hearing Maria’s resigned but strangely content voice coming through her headset. How her knees almost buckled before she even knew what was going to happen. The creeping dread and horror and regret as her brain slowly did the math that her heart had worked out instantly.

All of a sudden, Maria’s head on her shoulder feels too heavy. Tsubasa pulls away. Maria straightens. They look at each other, and Tsubasa looks away first.

“You were ready to die.” the words feel like misshapen stones clattering out of Tsubasa’s mouth.

Maria is silent for a moment. The movie characters in the background chatter on.

“It was how I could fix my mistakes,” Maria finally says. “At that moment, I thought it was the only way.”

Something claws at Tsubasa’s chest. She feels her jaw tense up. She was not expecting Maria to answer for her almost-sacrifice like this. “That’s not the only way.”

Maria looks down at her lap. “The way I grew up taught me it was. You put your body on the line, and things get better.”

Tsubasa’s heart aches. She knows how lonely of an existence that is. “You do not think that now.” It feels like more of a question than a statement.

The other woman’s lips twist into a grimace of a smile. “I try not to. But I don’t have much evidence to counter it.”

Whatever’s been clawing at Tsubasa’s chest rises a little higher. “So what will you do? Irresponsibly throw yourself into every fight?”

“No...” Maria’s voice tapers off. “I don’t know.”

The days after Kanade died, Tsubasa had retreated to her room for a good month. She often just sat on the floor, staring at nothing.

Then Genjuro had forced her to move again by giving her tasks. Tsubasa had resented it at first—how could everything else be the same when Kanade had died? Kanade had been her partner and her home. The world could have stopped on its axis for all Tsubasa cared. But then she’d realized how distracting fighting was, and how it quelled her guilt over surviving while Kanade was dead.

She understands how Maria feels, and that’s why it scares her.

“Maria,” she says. “Maria, look at me. Please.”

Tsubasa doesn't beg. She can't remember the last time she has. But she needs Maria to not close herself off right now.

Maria looks up and Tsubasa sees the guilt faintly shining in her eyes.

“I might not have been there when you were raised, so I don’t know what exactly you learned. But I’ve felt the same way as you before.” she tightens her grip on Maria’s hand. “And I can tell you that if you did die, even if—especially if—it was together with Kirika and Shirabe, you would open far more wounds than you could ever heal.”

Something softens, falls in Maria’s face. “Tsubasa—”

“I’m being selfish,” Tsubasa cuts her off. The feeling clawing at her chest and throat—she’s finally recognized it. “But that doesn’t matter. You still can’t throw your life away.”

Her heart is pounding. Tsubasa instinctively brings her other hand to her chest to feel it. “I’ve been isolating myself because I’ve been terrified, Maria.”

The slow tightening of her chest tonight—that creeping, sickly feeling—it's fear. Tsubasa is sure now.

Maria looks away. “I know.”

“I can’t let any more people that I—” Tsubasa searches for the right word. “—care about sacrifice themselves.” Tsubasa stares at Maria, wills her to meet her gaze.

And slowly, she does. “Tsubasa,” Maria says, lips pressing into a hard line, but voice soft. “I’ve killed people.”

Tsubasa finally sees the pain in Maria’s eyes that she’s been hiding.

She hadn’t known that Maria had been forced to kill.

Maria must have been torn up about this. Tsubasa _knows_ all Maria’s ever wanted is to love. To help people. To save and uplift. She doesn’t quite know how to convey that understanding as well as her anger at FIS for what they’d made Maria do. The unfairness of it all.

So she gathers Maria in her arms before she even knows what she’s doing.

From the way Maria buries her head in Tsubasa’s chest and how she feels the beginning of a patch of moisture on her shirt, Tsubasa realizes Maria needed this.

It’s Maria’s turn to cry. They are both silent criers.

“You still deserve good things,” Tsubasa says firmly after silence has finally settled around them. _The best things._ “You still deserve to live.”

Maria squeezes her hand once. Sighs into Tsubasa’s chest. “When you say it, I want to believe it.”

Tsubasa feels her heart pump a little faster. “Then I will keep saying it.”

She feels Maria’s hand twitch. The other woman lifts her head from Tsubasa’s chest. Stares at Tsubasa for a moment.

Tsubasa feels a feathery touch on her face. Realizes Maria’s fingers are lightly closing around her jaw.

She’s frozen. Maria’s eyes are soft and puffy from her tears, but it only makes her more beautiful. Some of her hair’s escaped the pins holding it back. While Maria was breathtaking during the party, Tsubasa thinks she’s just as—if not more—gorgeous like this.

And then she’s closed the distance and Tsubasa feels her lips get captured in the softest kiss of her life. Simultaneously her stomach drops to the floor and her heart rises into her throat, stuttering.

Maria’s lips are so, so gentle. And Tsubasa is feeling many things. She thinks Maria is too—can feel it in how Maria curls her fingers around her jaw and the shaky breath she lets out, hot against Tsubasa’s lips.

They should talk more. They will talk more. Tsubasa won’t let Maria deal with her guilt alone, now that she knows about it. She knows how it feels. Doesn’t want Maria to torture herself over it like she has.

Right now, she will go wherever this takes them. Maria’s kisses feel too good. She looks too good in her dress. Tsubasa loves how blue looks on the other woman. She slides her hands along Maria’s sides and feels how tightly the dress hugs Maria’s waist. A current of desire shudders through her. It has been too long.

Maria sucks in a breath against Tsubasa’s mouth. “Come to my bed,” she murmurs. Presses a sweet kiss to Tsubasa’s mouth and pulls away quick. A promise of more.

Tsubasa lets Maria pull her to her room without a second thought.

The sex they have that night feels like a promise. Of what, Tsubasa isn’t sure. When she thinks Tsubasa's fallen asleep, Maria presses a soft kiss to Tsubasa’s knuckles. Her lips are slow and almost reverent. And Tsubasa, already half asleep, melts into the realization that she doesn't have to be silent and afraid on her own anymore. Neither of them do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next/last chapter is coming pretty soon (it's about 80% done), so stay tuned :)


	2. spreading wagered wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a while. enjoy :)

Tsubasa takes a complete 180 from entirely self-isolating to spending almost every waking moment of her day with Maria. When she isn’t over at Maria’s dorm, Maria’s at hers. They fall into a rhythm. Or at least as much of a rhythm as they can when Tsubasa’s departure date looms over their heads.

The comfort Tsubasa gets from having someone—Maria—around her almost all the time...she’s almost forgotten how it feels. Some of it is new, though. She’s learning how it feels to wake up and see Maria sleeping soundly on the other side of whoever’s bed they’re sleeping in that night. They’re both still reeling from Carol and the Autoscorers, so they cling to each other.

It’s unfamiliar because she and Kanade didn’t share a bed this frequently. They never had a strong reason to, unlike her and Maria. If Kanade had survived, maybe they would have.

The thought doesn’t fill her with extreme guilt or deep, despairing sadness like it might before. Which is odd.

Tsubasa can’t help but feel that she is losing something. Funnily enough, Kanade would probably laugh in her face for making things so serious, if she was still around.

But she isn’t. All that’s left of Kanade is memories and feelings.

She hears the sheets shift behind her. A small groan. More shifting. Then, “Tsubasa? What time is it?”

Tsubasa glances at the curtains. Only the faintest rays of light filter through the cracks. “Early.” She should’ve known Maria would be woken up by her movement.

Feelings she hasn’t begun to parse are still brewing within her. She’s concerned that she might say something she doesn’t mean.

“Come back to bed, then,” Maria says quietly, the haze of sleep interrupted too early woven through her low voice.

Tsubasa knows she won’t be able to sleep. Not now that her brain’s taken her down this path. She knows she shouldn’t feel like she’s feeling now. But she does. She knows Kanade would want her to be happy, not wracked with guilt and sadness. She recognizes that now, and she’s trying not to deny herself good things because a voice in her head tells her she doesn’t deserve them. But it’s hard.

Maria’s presence makes it harder. Tsubasa wonders, if Kanade was still alive, would she have ever become this close with Maria?

“Something’s bothering you.”

Her head whips back to Maria. Maria’s sitting up, clutching a sheet to her chest, eyes fixed on Tsubasa’s.

Tsubasa looks at the sheets. “You lost your sister,” she blurts. She winces at her own lack of tact, but it’s too late.

She feels Maria’s whole body flinch at that statement. Then hears the long release of a breath. “I did.”

Tsubasa glances up, curious as to what expression’s on Maria’s face. She’s surprised by the small, fond smile Maria wears as she stares at her lap.

“How can you smile like that?” The words tumble out of Tsubasa’s mouth, her usual filter unable to function. She curses herself, but can’t stop now. “While you talk about losing her?”

“Because,” Maria says softly, after a slight pause. “Even if I can’t see her or talk with her or hug her again, I still have what she left with me,” Maria grabs her Airgetlám. “Not just Airgetlám. I have the love we had for each other, I have the characteristics and values she shaped, I have the words she gives me to voice important things.” The smile on Maria’s face spreads to her eyes as she looks down at Airgetlám. “It may sound corny, but when people say that their loved ones who have passed are always with them, I understand.”

Half of Tsubasa marvels at the other woman. How she forges her own path, even from loss.

The other half, which she wishes so desperately did not exist, is hollow.

“How can you be so sure?” Tsubasa asks softly. She stares, gaze unfocused, at her open hands in her lap. The next words slip out in a whisper. “I feel as if I am losing her.”

“Oh,” she hears Maria breathe behind her, a soft release of air and sound that slowly wraps itself around Tsubasa’s heart. “Tsubasa, you could never.”

How desperately she wanted that to be true. But the signs were all there.

“I forget, sometimes. How her voice sounded. Not when she would sing, but when we would talk. It would be different.” Tsubasa’s eyes trace along her palms, over her callouses. She wonders how Kanade might sound now—how time may have shaped her like it shaped Tsubasa. For some reason, she cannot envision it.

“Because she loved you, and you loved her.”

Tsubasa’s heart skips a beat. She reflexively curls her open hand into a fist. It feels odd for someone to say it out loud. Most avoid the topic, skirting around what they really intend to say with fluffy innuendo.

It doesn’t feel bad. It’s relieving.

Tsubasa uncurls her fist. “Yes. I loved her with everything I had.”

“Then how can you lose her? There’s a part of you that will always be hers, even if you forget how she was in life. I mean…”

Maria trails off, leaving a pregnant pause in the words’ wake.

The words hit Tsubasa somewhere deep inside, and Maria’s pause makes her turn. Maria’s features are lit in the dim light of the sunrise muffled by their curtains. She’d put on her nightshirt, which Tsubasa was slightly thankful for.

“You mean?” Tsubasa prompts. She’s curious about the expression on Maria’s face, soft, almost fond, but with something extra casting her eyes downward.

“I—” Maria stops. “She’s who you fight for.”

Tsubasa doesn’t know why that feels quite so loaded and why she feels so caught off-guard. “Yes?”

Maria sighs. “Her memory, the tragedy and injustice of her death, your love—it’s what drives you when you have nothing left. When you’re at your most honest.” She brings her sheet-clad legs up to her chest. “It’s everywhere, if you listen. In your songs. In your words.”

Tsubasa blinks. “I suppose you’re correct.” She is surprised that Maria paid that close attention. She's always thought Kanade was the reason she fought.

But again, it feels like she's been forgetting that lately.

“No one would ever dream that you’re in danger of losing her. If the love you shared was so strong that it’s fueled you this long, her place in your heart is certainly permanent.”

The words resonate with Tsubasa, and she knows Maria’s right. She's always been sure she would never truly lose Kanade, and deep down she knows she still won't.

But it feels like Kanade's place in her heart has changed, and Tsubasa can't put her finger on how.

Tsubasa needs to think about this some more, but not right now.

"Thank you," she finally responds. Tsubasa slides her legs out from under the sheets and stands.

"Where are you going?"

"To make some tea."

When Maria doesn't immediately respond, Tsubasa glances over at her. Maria’s stifling a yawn with the back of her hand, and Tsubasa feels something release inside herself. "You should go back to sleep."

Maria brings her hand down, lips quirked in a sheepish smile. "Caught me, huh?" the yawn comes back full-force. "I would offer to keep you company, but I think you're right."

"I will be okay," Tsubasa says. "Thank you, though."

"Just don't...be too hard on yourself, okay?" There's something in Maria’s gaze. "You have that tendency."

Tsubasa just nods, not sure how to respond. She pads out of the room. Maria’s still sitting up when she closes the bedroom door.

She brews the tea stronger than she usually prefers it.

_~~~~~_

It had been odd preparing to leave Maria and go off to London alone. So when Tsubasa, ready to depart, turned the corner and saw Maria leaning against the wall with a small smirk, she couldn’t help the feeling that bubbled from up within her and spilled onto her face.

But then, of course, they had different roles to fulfill. And so they were assigned separate living arrangements, and it was again odd. Tsubasa had supposed it was for the best for the time being, but she hadn’t gotten used to sleeping in an empty bed again. She slept fitfully, and in her waking hours felt a growing unease spurred on by her unfamiliar surroundings and her doubts of whether she could achieve her long-standing dream.

Her mind was restless during those nights. When she wasn’t worrying about the uncertain future, she would reflect on the change within her own heart. The realizations she’d made that one night with Maria and a strongly-brewed cup of tea. Tsubasa’s thoughts chased each other, round and round, getting nowhere. But sometime during that endless cycling, Tsubasa stopped caring so much about why and more about how Kanade’s place in her heart had shifted. It was still strange, but less.

The fleeting times she’d seen Maria felt even stranger. The space, physical and emotional, that stretched between them made it feel was like they’d never even lived together. Tsubasa didn’t know why it was there and didn’t like it.

So Tsubasa had been glad when her apartment flooded and relieved when HQ informed her that she’d have to share Maria’s.

They’d looked at each other. Maria had offered her a small smile. It hadn’t quite reached her eyes.

Odd, but Tsubasa was still glad. And she is still glad now. It’s just nice having someone around. Especially someone like Maria, who balances her out so well. While being with others sometimes drains her, being with Maria never does.

(It doesn’t hurt that Tsubasa gets a clean room out of it too.)

The large box that holds at least half of her clothes is light, but unwieldy. Tsubasa adjusts her grip as she nears the door to Maria’s apartment, getting ready to perform the awkward task of transferring a large box of clothes to just one arm to use the other to knock like a normal, polite guest.

Only, Tsubasa is used to wielding swords—not boxes. She balances the box on her hip a little too precariously and pays the ultimate price. The cardboard slips out from under her arm, and the box loudly tumbles into the wall before landing on its side. It pops open—she hadn’t bothered to seal it—and out falls her meticulously folded clothes.

A jolt of alarm shoots through her. Ogawa had helped her fold those clothes once—she didn’t want to ask him again. Tsubasa falls to her knees and tries to set the box upright again, but as she does, more clothes spill out.

A groan escapes her right as she hears the sound of a lock turning. Startled, Tsubasa turns to look and there’s Maria, silhouetted against the light from her apartment.

Her eyes are drawn to the other woman’s lips, which twitch upward before Maria presses them together. “What’s happening here?”

Tsubasa just stares at her. She thinks it’s pretty obvious, and she’s worried the flush creeping up her chest and neck will become obvious if she speaks.

Maria lets out a huff of air that’s half exasperated, half amused. She kneels next to Tsubasa. Picks up one of Tsubasa’s shirts and starts to smooth out the creases in the fabric.

She’s so close that Tsubasa thinks she can feel her body heat, causing the hairs in Tsubasa’s right arm to stand up. Maria’s always so warm. If Tsubasa shifted just a little closer, she’d be pressed against Maria’s side.

Tsubasa feels a sudden, warm grip around her wrist and yelps. She looks and Maria’s face is right in front of her. Tsubasa’s eyes trace along the graceful lines of her long eyelashes. Down the slope of her nose. To her lips, which Tsubasa has felt on hers so many times before, yet elude her memory. Every time Maria kisses her, it feels new. Tsubasa is tempted to see what they feel like now.

She’s beginning to lean in when the clothes she was going to fold are ripped out of her hands. Tsubasa blinks as Maria jerks back, the clothes in her grasp.

“I—can probably fold these better than you,” Maria says. Her eyes are a little wide. “Why don’t you bring the box into the apartment? I can take care of folding the rest.”

Tsubasa stands up. Too quick. Her joints lock with mortification. “Okay.” she hoists the box off the floor and walks, as slowly as she can make herself, to Maria’s apartment.

She finds an empty, low table and sets the box down on top. Before, Tsubasa had been glad that this was the last box, but now she wishes there were more.

_What was that?_

Maria’s wide eyes. It had been horribly awkward when it shouldn’t have been, considering how many times they’d done much more intimate things.

Tsubasa dimly registers that her heart is racing. She groans. All this because Tsubasa felt compelled to try and kiss Maria on the dirty floor of her dingy apartment complex.

Not her best moment.

Tsubasa wants to sink into Maria’s couch, but she doesn’t want to relax while Maria folds her clothes alone. So she shoves down any form of embarrassment and starts walking back to Maria.

She pauses when she’s in the doorway because Tsubasa knows she isn’t needed, will just get in the way, but she wants to be around anyway. She watches Maria carefully fold each piece of clothing and can’t stop the corners of her lips from twitching upward. Maria looks oddly vulnerable, sitting with her knees to the side, concentrated on her task with her brows furrowed.

Tsubasa stands in the doorway until Maria’s finished. When she finishes folding the last shirt, Maria carefully slides her hands underneath the pile of folded clothes to lift it slowly into her arms. The gentleness with which Maria handles the clothes make it seem like their price tags are hundreds of dollars more than what they were.

“Oh!” Maria has turned toward her. She gives a small start. “I didn’t know you were there.”

“I could not just wait on the couch,” Tsubasa says.

Maria opens her mouth, looks like she wants to say something, and closes it. Tsubasa hears her clear her throat instead. Maria steps forward, and Tsubasa moves to the side. Her shoulder brushes Tsubasa’s as she moves past, and Tsubasa’s skin tingles.

“There’s a futon in the corner of this room you can use,” Maria says over her shoulder. “You can sleep on the floor of this room. Sorry we don’t have anything better yet—we’re going to convert the office into your bedroom, but that’ll take some time.”

Maria’s words feel stiff. There’s an unsettled feeling in Tsubasa’s stomach. She hadn’t wanted to assume anything, but she’d missed being close with Maria and had hoped she felt the same. But Maria seemed intent on putting distance between them.

She wants to ask if she could just stay in Maria’s room. She wants to ask why they can’t just go back to how they were before they came here. She wonders why things are changing.

But she has no experience questioning things like this. She’s not sure how she would even do it.

“Do you still sleep at 10?” is what she asks instead.

Tsubasa sees Maria freeze from where she’s straightening from setting down Tsubasa’s clothes on the couch. A pause.

“I try,” Maria says simply. Her voice is far too controlled.

And then she’s gone, taking the promise of warmth with her.

_~~~~~_

Maria’s change is a mystery Tsubasa cannot figure out.

Not that she was ever good at solving mysteries. That was always someone else’s job. She’s always known she’s the brawn more than the brains, and she’s okay with that.

But Tsubasa wishes she had a little bit more of the brains when she goes without seeing Maria for three days straight.

Tsubasa just doesn’t understand. They live in the same apartment! There’s no way they could just miss each other this many times, unless Maria is actively avoiding her.

If Maria is avoiding her, why? What reason would Maria have for avoiding her?

She has no idea where to begin.

She misses how they used to be. Maria’s sweet scent clings to everything in this apartment, and it makes Tsubasa remember nights of kissing endless expanses of skin and feeling every swell and curve and dip and getting heady with that feeling that came from touching her.

It also makes her remember tangled legs and sheets and quiet morning teatimes. She realizes she took it for granted—always having someone to talk and listen to, whether it was about silly things like how they teased Chris that day or the deep, serious conversations that tugged at Tsubasa’s heart.

Her sleep is still light and restless, but it’s better. Maria’s scent deceives her brain, sends her to sleep even when Tsubasa’s mind does its best to keep her up.

Sometimes when Tsubasa comes back from a late meeting or event, she goes to the kitchen to cook something—which to her means microwaving instant noodles—and instead finds a pot of still-warm food sitting on the stovetop, with a little note with her name on it. Maria’s door is always closed, lights off, but the food is hot and Tsubasa knows that Maria also has long days and late nights and she shouldn’t have the energy to cook for another person.

But the food is always right there on the stove.

There are other things too. Like how Tsubasa never cleans her area herself, but it’s somehow always clean and organized. How her laundry is always done and folded, smelling of Maria’s detergent, after every week. How Tsubasa tore one of her favorite skirts out in the city and after a few days, found it folded on the couch with a brand new line of stitches running up its side.

All of this made Maria’s distance even more confusing. Tsubasa has kind of given up trying to figure it out.

Tonight is one of Tsubasa’s late nights. It was a difficult one—a meeting with her foreign promotion team, who told her that her popularity continued to stagnate. It had been that way for the entire time. The team had talked about “cultural differences” and “celebrity archetypes” and a lot of statistics that Tsubasa didn’t need to hear to know that things weren’t the best right now.

She had been keeping her hopes up as the team made her try new things, increase her public appearances, plan more events, but none of it had worked so far. So the doubt gnawed at her even harder than it ever had that night, eating away a dark pit in her belly.

Tsubasa opens the door to the apartment and shuts it behind her as fast as possible, breathing out a sigh as Maria’s scent welcomes her back. She slips off her shoes and goes straight for the kitchen. Sure enough, the pot is there with the note. Tsubasa touches the side. It’s still hot.

She opens the lid and it’s curry with rice tonight. Something pricks at her eyes, and it's not just because of the steam from the curry. Tsubasa furiously rubs them with the back of her hand.

How she wishes she had someone to talk to.

She knows too that she doesn’t just want someone. It has to be Maria—who stayed up late even while she was exhausted from agent work all day to make her home-cooked curry and rice.

Tsubasa takes the first bite of the curry and rice. It’s cooked just how she likes it.

The curry restores her energy and smooths the worst of the jagged teeth of guilt eating away at her insides. And Tsubasa is blinking, vision going blurry, because even if Maria’s been going through something hard, she still makes Tsubasa feel safe and cared for.

Tsubasa’s rising and without thinking about it, her hand is in the handle of Maria’s door. She hesitates for a brief moment before turning the handle.

Her thoughts haven’t yet caught up with her, and that’s how she wants it. She wants to see Maria tonight, no matter what.

Maria’s sitting up in bed, hands folded. Tsubasa witnesses her jaw go slack. “Tsubasa?”

Tsubasa freezes at the sound of her name on Maria’s lips. It’s been so long.

That moment of hesitation makes Tsubasa’s thoughts come pouring back in.

She's pushing too far—Maria doesn't want her around.

“Tsubasa?” Maria asks, voice softer. “Why are you here?”

Tsubasa gazes into her eyes, soft and open like they used to be, and something deep in her chest breaks with a sigh. Tsubasa walks forward, to the side of Maria’s bed. She lifts the covers and slips underneath.

She feels Maria go rigid next to her. It makes something in Tsubasa’s chest get a little smaller. But she can’t leave now. Tsubasa grabs hold of Maria’s wrist. She can't look at Maria. “Please,” she forces the word out past her lips. "Stay."

It's a statement, but they both know it's a plea.

Maria’s silent and still next to her. Surrounded by Maria’s scent, in her soft bed, Tsubasa's eyes feel heavy. If Maria doesn't ask her to leave, she's not sure if she'd be able to anymore.

As Tsubasa's eyes flutter shut, she feels a sudden grip on her wrist. Her eyes fly open to see Maria dragging her wrist to her lips.

When she feels the softness of Maria’s lips press against her pulsepoint, a shudder tears through Tsubasa's body. Her heart thuds, once, twice, thrice, against her ribcage.

Maria pulls Tsubasa's wrist away from her lips. Her eyes capture Tsubasa's. There's no upward tilt to her mouth—no sparkle in her eyes. "Is this what you want?"

Tsubasa doesn't know why the question feels like more than a simple question of consent, but the answer is obvious.

"Yes."

She searches Maria’s face. If anything, Maria’s features are tenser. Harder. Her jaw is set.

Without another word, Maria pushes Tsubasa onto her back and straddles her. Tsubasa's hands automatically find the backs of her thighs.

She wants to figure out what Maria’s feeling, but reading others' emotions isn't her strong suit. Instead, Tsubasa's eyes wander. From the hair curling around the side of her face, to the slightly upturned tip of her nose, to the elegant lines of her jaw, and finally back to her eyes.

Even though Maria’s been going through something difficult, the fire in her teal-green eyes hasn't faded. Tsubasa doubts it's ever left, from the moment Maria was born until now. Maria’s so alive, in every way. Tsubasa admires her so much for that.

Her heart is beating so fast, but Tsubasa wants to convey that she's here for Maria. That she doesn't know what she's going through that is so difficult, but she's here. So she reaches up, toward the fiery eyes she admires so much. Her hand finds Maria’s cheek. She cups it, feeling its softness, and Maria blinks.

Tsubasa tries to get Maria to understand. No words she could come up with could capture it better than this, this moment where Maria’s skin is soft underneath Tsubasa's hand and her breath ghosts over Tsubasa's thumb and Tsubasa's own breath is curiously caught in her throat.

Maria blinks again and Tsubasa feels like she still can't breathe so instead she moves her hand from Maria’s cheek to the back of her neck and pulls her down. Maria’s hair tickles the side of Tsubasa's face as she captures Maria’s lips with hers and Tsubasa can finally let go of the breath she's been holding, which she does in a warm sigh into Maria’s mouth.

That wakes Maria up. Her hands skim Tsubasa's sides, light and grazing, before she pushes Tsubasa's shirt up. Tsubasa shivers, half from the chill of the room's air on her bare torso, half from finally feeling Maria’s touch on her body.

Why had they stopped doing this? Tsubasa still doesn’t have an answer for that. She’s not sure if Maria would answer.

Maria’s hands find a place at Tsubasa's sides as she licks her way into Tsubasa's mouth. The feeling of Maria’s tongue in her mouth sends a jolt of heat straight to Tsubasa's core, and she groans. It's almost embarrassing how fast she's getting wet. But it isn't totally her fault—they'd been fucking for a while without Tsubasa ever letting herself be touched, and the past few weeks have been completely dry.

Maria pulls back, which Tsubasa almost whines at before she remembers herself, but she has absolutely no complaints when Maria starts kissing her way down her jaw, to her neck. When Maria’s wet lips find the junction of her neck and shoulder, Tsubasa actually gasps.

The sensation brings back strong memories—stolen times in dressing rooms and broom closets. Red hair filling her vision. A husky voice purring in her ear as she desperately tries to stay quiet.

And that's why Tsubasa hadn't wanted this.

But now that she'd finally gotten here, it felt different than she'd imagined. Making new memories and remaking old ones didn't feel threatening anymore. This was no slow slide into a dark future where Tsubasa took everything Kanade gave her—before, after, and during her sacrifice—for granted.

It just felt like adding a new page to a story. Clicking more things into place.

Overwhelming relief spills over from her heart to her ribcage and Tsubasa's vision gets blurry. Maria nips at her and the warm relief Tsubasa feels melts into the acute feeling of Maria’s teeth on Tsubasa's neck. It only fuels the heat in Tsubasa's gut. She can't help the noise that escapes her throat. _Embarrassing._ Heat spreads up Tsubasa's neck. She turns her head to the side.

"You don't know how much I've wanted to this," Maria husks. Her breath, hot against the sensitive skin of Tsubasa's neck, involuntarily causes Tsubasa to arch toward her. What she's doing is hot, but it's just as exciting to hear that Maria’s thought about this.

About fucking her.

"How—" Maria starts kissing a trail down Tsubasa's chest. Her lips are soft; goosebumps sweep across Tsubasa's skin wherever they go. "—much?" Tsubasa grinds out.

Maria’s lips stop right above the v-neck of Tsubasa's shirt. "That's a dangerous question." Tsubasa feels Maria’s hands brush her sides, followed by the shock of cool air on her now bare torso. Maria leaves Tsubasa's shirt pushed up and presses her mouth to Tsubasa's sternum. Tsubasa shivers, and she feels Maria’s wicked smile against her skin.

"How about I show you?"

And then there's something warm and wet—Maria’s _tongue_ —dragging across Tsubasa's chest. Her thighs clench together as Maria’s lips wrap around the peak of her breast. Maria’s tongue flicks against her nipple, and a line of heat jolts through Tsubasa, going straight to her core.

Tsubasa has to grab onto Maria’s sides as Maria’s tongue swirls around her nipple.

She wants _more_. Thinking about Maria letting the hand currently resting on Tsubasa's abs wander lower and lower...until it reaches the sticky mess between Tsubasa's thighs...

At the next press of Maria’s tongue, it takes so much for Tsubasa to stay quiet.

And then, like Maria can read her mind, her hand trails lower. Something in Tsubasa's gut jumps, and she can feel her breaths quicken.

But instead of going between her thighs like she wanted, Maria’s hand snakes around Tsubasa's side. Tsubasa's breath catches in her throat when she feels Maria’s fingers, light and teasing, brush against her ass. Maria raises her head and Tsubasa finds herself unable to look away. The look in Maria’s eyes is hungry.

With no warning, Maria grips Tsubasa's ass, fingers digging into hard muscle. Tsubasa bites her lip. Maria’s grip sends shocks of heat to her core, but it also causes the haze of lust to clear a bit.

Tsubasa is worried. Because she hasn't thought about it much, not consciously, but she's known she's not like the other women around her. Tsubasa is all sharp angles and rough edges and hard surfaces and nothing that makes it easy for other people to want her. And she thinks Maria is the opposite—soft (despite being one of the strongest on the team) and curvy and gorgeous in every sense.

"Is this okay?"

The grip on Tsubasa's ass has weakened. Sometime after Tsubasa spaced out, the hunger in Maria’s eyes had ceded some ground to concern.

"Yes," Tsubasa answers automatically. She winces inwardly at how robotic she sounds.

Maria reads her. Of course she does. Her brows scrunch together.

"It’s okay," Tsubasa says. "Thank you. For all of this."

Impossibly, Maria’s brows come together even further. "What?"

Tsubasa can't hold Maria’s gaze anymore, so she looks to the ceiling. "Giving back. You're kind."

"Why—?"

"I am not someone that people think to...give to," Tsubasa finally says.

She hears a disbelieving huff. "I think just about any of the other wielders would give you the world, if they could."

Heat floods Tsubasa's face. "Not giving like that." she looks back down to see Maria looking at her with an expression that's equal parts exasperated, confused, and amused, and for some queer reason it makes Tsubasa's heart give a little jump. "Giving. Like this."

She hears as well as sees Maria’s intake of breath. "You...think people wouldn't be attracted to you…like this?"

Tsubasa stays silent. She wishes Maria wasn't so perceptive.

A light slap on her upper arm. Maria frowns down on Tsubasa. "You're such an infuriating woman sometimes."

Tsubasa blinks up at her, struck dumb. Of all the reactions she was expecting, this isn't one of them.

"I don't come back to...this...just to get fucked," Maria says. And then she's the one avoiding Tsubasa's eyes, voice dropping into the tone of voice she uses when she's embarrassed. "It's not about what you do for me. It's just about…you."

Something in Tsubasa's chest suddenly feels airy and light. She doesn't know what exactly Maria means— _it's just about you_ —but it makes her pulse quicken.

“Not like…” Maria’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again, a wild light suddenly in her eyes. “I just mean…” her eyes squeeze shut. When they’re open again, the Maria from before has returned. Steady. Assured. But still somehow different from the Maria during all their nights before.

“Did you know,” says Maria. “that I have dreams about touching you?”

Tsubasa hadn’t been prepared at _all_. Not for the tidal wave of lust that followed in the wake of Maria’s statement, making her clench her thighs together. And not for Maria to continue.

She stares up at Maria, whose expression suddenly makes Tsubasa very, very, conscious of how she’s splayed out beneath the other woman. How if she decided, Maria could hold her down by the wrists and do whatever she wants.

“Making you a mess on my bed until you can’t take it anymore. Your thighs around my head. My tongue inside of you, finally being able to taste.”

Tsubasa’s vision goes a little hazy at the edges. She feels her chest rising and falling fast as the rest of the room fades from her senses and Maria becomes the only thing in it. One of Maria’s hands lightly skims down the side of Tsubasa’s body. Tsubasa can’t hold back the groan and cant of her hips when Maria possessively takes hold of the back of Tsubasa’s thigh. The other hand is quick to follow, and then Tsubasa is dazedly shifting her vision to look down the length of her body at Maria between her legs, spreading her thighs apart.

The wet rush to her core makes Tsubasa flush. “I’m—I do not know if—”

She is effectively silenced when Maria half-lifts her by the hips to push Tsubasa’s skirt up around her waist. Then she can only watch, core throbbing, as Maria settles between her legs. Tsubasa can feel the swell of her breasts resting against the inside of her thighs and that, plus the hungry look in Maria’s eyes as she stares, fingers tracing along Tsubasa’s inner thighs and just under the hem of Tsubasa’s underwear, has Tsubasa arching her back and pressing her hips up.

Down the trembling slopes of her own body, Tsubasa can see Maria’s lips lift into her close-lipped smirk. “Where’d that hesitation go?”

Tsubasa opens her mouth, though she has no response ready, except Maria must not really want one because Tsubasa feels something press against her, outside of her underwear. Tsubasa gives a choked cry.

“You’re soaked,” Maria whispers. She slowly drags the pad of her finger up the clothed length of Tsubasa’s folds. The noise coming up from the bottom of Tsubasa’s throat and the way she grinds against Maria’s finger would’ve been embarrassing if her mind had any capacity to think about anything besides wanting her panties gone and Maria’s mouth in their place.

“Maria,” Tsubasa groans. “Maria.”

Maria understands. Her fingers hook around the band of Tsubasa’s panties, Tsubasa already lifting her hips for her, and she strips them off in one motion. Tsubasa’s actually panting when Maria settles back between her legs. Her stomach drops when she feels Maria press a few light kisses on the inside of her thighs before she feels Maria’s warm exhale on her bare core.

Tsubasa shivers. Maria looks up and meets her eyes. “You’re okay with this?”

As wound up as she is, a trickle of affection seeps into Tsubasa’s heart. She jerks her head into a shaky, emphatic nod, not trusting her voice not to break in some mortifying way.

When she feels the first touch of Maria’s tongue against her wetness, she can’t control the spasm of pure lust that runs through her body, making her dig her arms hard into the bed.

Maria drags her tongue against Tsubasa’s lower lips so _slow_ that Tsubasa might go insane. She clenches and unclenches her fists, struggling to keep her breathing even.

Maria pulls her head away and Tsubasa might just cry. Thankfully, it isn’t for long. Just long for Maria to grab one of Tsubasa’s hands, pull it down to rest on her head, and return to what she had been doing before.

Tsubasa instinctively clenches her hand into a fist again when she feels Maria’s wet mouth return to her pussy. She hazily realizes she’s grabbed Maria’s hair tight. The appreciative hum that Tsubasa can feel against her slick lips makes Tsubasa tighten her grip.

Maria makes a sound that’s half-sigh, half-moan, and then her tongue is _inside_ Tsubasa, wet and hot and filling. Tsubasa can feel something building in her stomach at the strength of Maria’s tongue.

Maria establishes a pace. Tsubasa misses her tongue when it’s gone, and almost blanks out, hips canted up and trembling, when it’s back inside. But then Maria’s lips shift and there’s a wet pressure on Tsubasa’s clit, rubbing every time Tsubasa moves her hips, and the heat starts building higher.

“Maria,” Tsubasa breathes. Maria’s tongue plunges back in and her core is throbbing so bad that before she realizes what she’s doing, Tsubasa’s wrapped her legs around Maria’s head.

She needs _more_ —she’s so close already. Maybe it’s been embarrassingly fast. The years of shutting down her sex drive out of guilt and duty and denying herself any sexual pleasure took their toll.

But Tsubasa has had no reservations tonight. With Maria, she can escape. And with the space to escape…

Tsubasa is changing.

And for once, she’s happy that she is.

Like she can read Tsubasa’s mind, Maria increases her pace, and Tsubasa’s yanked out of her thoughts. Tsubasa’s thighs tighten around her head instinctively.

Tsubasa’s so drenched that every movement Maria’s tongue makes against her is accompanied by filthy wet noises. She’d never want to admit it, but being able to _hear_ Maria eating her out is driving her even closer to the edge.

When the pressure in her gut has become so intense that Tsubasa thinks she could scream with frustration, Maria gives one last, deep thrust with her tongue. Then Tsubasa is empty, and Maria’s lips are wrapped around Tsubasa’s clit and she’s _humming_ and looking up at Tsubasa through hooded eyes and that’s the push Tsubasa has needed.

The first wave of her orgasm has her clenching her thighs around Maria’s head so hard that she should probably be worried about suffocating her. But the edges of her vision have gone white and she’s so gone that she’s saying something— _Maria’s name, over and over and over again_ —but she won’t remember what afterward.

Her limbs are moving without her commanding them, only able to focus on the white-hot pleasure coursing through her body in shudders. It’s the most intense orgasm Tsubasa’s ever had.

When she slowly regains control of her senses, Maria’s gazing at her, a small smile on her lips. The distance Tsubasa felt between them before is gone, and Tsubasa, still panting, can’t help the smile that steals over her own.

They lie like that for a few moments more, before Tsubasa’s eye is drawn to the glistening mess on Maria’s mouth. Her filter gone, lost somewhere in the warm fog of her brain, Tsubasa says the first thing on her mind.

“Are you going to go get cleaned up?”

Maria blinks. “What do you mean?”

Despite Maria having been face-first in her pussy literally a minute ago, Tsubasa’s cheeks heat. “Your face. It’s messy.”

Maria looks confused for a second. She opens her mouth. Tsubasa watches as she absently licks at the corner of her mouth, blinks again. “Oh.”

She stands, nightdress falling around her legs. The soft look in her eyes is gone. Tsubasa misses it.

“I’ll be back,” Maria says.

While she’s gone, Tsubasa just lies on the bed, boneless. There’s a satisfying burn in her muscles, and she feels safe and more relaxed than she maybe ever has. She could sink into Maria’s bed and never come back out. 

(That might be a consequence of sleeping on the floor for two weeks, though.)

She can’t help the consuming relief she feels from reconciling with Maria. Try as she might, the gentle smile on her lips just won’t go away.

Her mind feels like it’s wrapped in a cloud. It’s blessedly blank—a foreign feeling. She shuts her eyes. The warmth of Maria’s bed is too alluring.

Her heart beats, steady and warm in her chest, as the rest of the world fades into a soft black.

_~~~~~_

The sun streaming in past the curtains is the first thing to wake Tsubasa.

The second is the unfamiliar weight around Tsubasa’s waist. And the feeling of something warm pressed against the entire length of her body, keeping her firmly in place.

She breathes out slowly, trying to keep control as her heartrate skyrockets. Mind not yet functional, Tsubasa slowly turns to see what’s holding her tight.

The back of her head brushes into something, and then it’s moving too. Then Tsubasa glimpses a bare shoulder, a strap of a nightdress, and suddenly everything makes sense. The tension melts out of her body.

“Ow,” mutters Maria, all squinting eyes and a voice still thick with sleep. “Nose.”

“Sorry,” says Tsubasa out of reflex. And then she’s studying Maria lit by the soft morning light, gaze slowly tracing from the imprints of the pillowcase on Maria’s cheek to the baby hairs sticking to her forehead to the sleep in the corners of her eyes.

Maria blinks blearily, once, and she looks so _small_ and soft at the edges where she’s normally firm that Tsubasa wants to both giggle at her and pull her even closer (which would probably be highly alarming—Tsubasa doesn’t giggle) but the mirth bubbling up within Tsubasa is gentle and warm and Tsubasa leans in. Leans into it.

Maria blinks again. Except it’s not bleary this time and her eyes are widening. Tsubasa notes that _oh_ , her eyes are gorgeous in the morning sun, before she’s closed the distance, heart beating firmly in her chest, eyes fluttering shut as she captures Maria’s soft, warm lips with hers.

Tsubasa hears a sound—breath catching in a throat—then Maria’s kissing her back, so light and gentle that Tsubasa’s heart stumbles over itself. And Tsubasa is beginning to realize that maybe she should figure out why it does that, but the sun is warm on her back and Maria’s softening into her body and tightening her hold around Tsubasa’s waist. Maria’s arm around her waist and lips on hers feel safe and real and Tsubasa doesn’t have to think about anything else right now.

The mirth in her chest melts and blossoms throughout her whole body and the only thing she can do is lean into Maria even further, feeling time slow as Maria’s lips move slowly against hers.

They couldn’t have kissed for more than a minute, but Tsubasa isn’t exactly sure how much time passes. She’s completely enveloped by Maria’s body and scent and something is slowly curling its way around her heart.

Her heart beats steady but fast, and Tsubasa has to pull away for breath much sooner than she likes. Maria chases her lips for a second more. Tsubasa fights the urge to laugh again and fails this time, a small amused huff coming through her nose, and Maria’s eyes snap open.

“Why are you laughing?” The weight on Tsubasa’s waist is gone.

For some reason, Tsubasa can’t get rid of the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She shakes her head. “It’s nothing.”

She notices Maria how shifts her gaze away and feels like she should say more. “I’m—” Tsubasa stares at the creases on Maria’s cheek. Feels the warmth emanating from Maria’s body, the comfort in their tangled legs, and tries to put it into words. “—glad. That I am here.”

The words are heavier out in the open than Tsubasa thought they would be. Heat rises up her neck.

Something flashes across Maria’s face, but it’s gone before Tsubasa can process it. She watches as Maria sits up and swings her legs from between Tsubasa’s and over the side of the bed.

Tsubasa thinks she sees a hint of a pink in Maria’s cheeks. “I’m glad to hear that,” Maria stands, the motion a little too fast to be natural. “I’ll go make us breakfast. I have a job to do at noon.”

Tsubasa wants to ask Maria to come back, missing her warmth already. More than anything else, Tsubasa wishes they could have stayed tangled together in the morning for just a little longer. But she has things to do as well, so she just nods.

Well after she waves Maria goodbye and goes to her next meeting, Tsubasa finds herself still thinking of how their day might have gone had they both stayed. A smile hovers on her lips the whole day.

_~~~~~_

That day, Tsubasa makes a plan.

Or, well, she has no idea how she’ll accomplish it, but she has a goal. She needs to let Maria know how much she appreciates the care she’s given Tsubasa for months now.

Her face burns at the mere thought of saying that to Maria’s face, so she needs an alternative. A plan. Actions speak louder than words, anyway.

She’s well out of her element here, though. Never has she once had to do anything like this.

“Ogawa,” she says without thinking. They’re on break.

The man merely tilts his head in acknowledgement, engrossed with whatever he’s doing on his tablet. _Probably booking more useless shows for me to reject._

“If you needed to thank someone without actually saying it,” Tsubasa crosses her arms, regretting speaking so impulsively as the words come out. “How would you do it?”

“Well,” says Ogawa. “If I couldn’t say anything, I guess I’d just go to the store and buy them the nicest thank you card there.”

Tsubasa pinches the bridge of her nose. That…she wasn’t going to do that. Not for Maria. She lets out a sigh—honestly, what else would she have expected from him? “Thanks.”

Ogawa hummed in response.

Sitting back in her chair, Tsubasa tries to imagine how the rest of S.O.N.G. might reply.

Genjuro would probably slap her on the back and encourage her to just say it out loud. Or he’d suggest something he’s seen from some action movie. Which…Tsubasa doesn’t want to imagine how that would go.

Chris would get embarrassed and say something heartfelt, then get embarrassed again. But she’s just as bad as Tsubasa with expressing her feelings effectively, so she’s not sure she would go to her for advice.

Shirabe and Kirika would be a goldmine of extremely creative and slightly terrifying ideas that may or may not end in many things going very wrong.

Well, that would just be Kirika, with Shirabe serving as her quiet enabler. Tsubasa shakes her head, a fond smile on her lips.

That leaves Hibiki…who would do the same as Genjuro but with two times the earnesty and infinitely more handholding. And that would just make Tsubasa want to crawl under a rock. Poor Miku—Tsubasa doesn’t know how she can withstand all that on a daily basis.

Wait.

Miku.

“I’ll be out in the hallway,” Tsubasa tells Ogawa. And then she’s standing and dialing Miku’s number.

After three rings, Miku picks up.

“Tsubasa-san?”

“Kohinata. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

A gentle laugh. “No, I’m just reading some magazines. What do you need?”

“I, um.” Tsubasa looks around. No one in sight. “I need some help with thanking someone.”

She explains the situation, omitting all the insinuating parts and Maria’s name.

“I thought you’d be able to help me best,” Tsubasa says to finish. “Because you care for Hibiki so well, without words.”

There’s a soft exhale of breath from the other side of the line. “Thank you. I like to think I do.”

Tsubasa blinks. That response was…more emotionally heavy than she thought it’d be.

“Anyway!” comes Miku’s response. “I think…one of the best ways to care for someone is to cook for them. I’m currently learning how to do it better, but I have a few things I can make well. If you want, I can teach you when you get home?”

Tsubasa winces. Cooking…never has she encountered an activity that stymied her so. She had been considering it but nixed the idea because of how horrendous any past attempt had gone.

But maybe if Miku was helping her, it would go better.

“That sounds great,” she says, trying to keep the unease out of her voice. “Thank you so much.”

Miku laughs again. “Don’t worry, the recipe I have is simple, even for beginners. And of course.”

Tsubasa flushes.

“I’ll let you go now. Call me again once you’re ready!”

Tsubasa nods, then belatedly realizes Miku can’t see. “Yes. Again, thank—”

The sound of the call ending cuts her off. Tsubasa groans. She’d waited until too late to respond. She’s such a fool…but at least she’s a step closer to properly thanking Maria.

_~~~~~_

Tsubasa leaves work early to get home before Maria.

(Home. It’s not her home, not quite, but it has a nice ring to it.)

When she gets back, all the lights are off and Maria’s shoes are still missing by the door. Perfect. She probably wouldn’t be home for another hour.

Tsubasa wastes no time, dialing Miku’s number while she slips off her shoes.

Miku picks up after the first ring this time. “Ready?”

“…I hope so.”

“Good.” Miku’s voice has switched from soft to commanding, and Tsubasa isn’t sure whether to be relieved or afraid.

The next 50 minutes are hell.

Miku quickly realizes just how inept Tsubasa is in the kitchen. So inept that she doesn’t know the difference between a teaspoon, tablespoon, and cooking ladle, much less _where_ in the kitchen any of those are located. She has to switch to video chat just to get Tsubasa past the preparation steps, which ends up taking 20 minutes in total.

Thankfully, they had the meat and vegetables to make the dish already on hand—Tsubasa thinks it’s called…beef stroganoff?—thank god for Maria and Ogawa.

Miku is aghast to learn that Tsubasa doesn’t know how to wash—much less make—rice and she goes on an 8 minute tangent just to teach her, insisting it’s an “essential skill”. Tsubasa is sure she’s right, but she’s having to use all her mental energy just to keep up with Miku’s unrelenting directions. She wipes at the sweat beading on her brow as she closes the lid to the rice cooker.

How does she and Maria do this so often?

The only thing Tsubasa is good at is cutting the produce. Well, that is, until Miku’s horrified gasp in her ear after the video catches up to what Tsubasa’s done, and she tells her that no, she _isn’t_ supposed to cut the tomato into a billion tiny perfect pieces.

(After her initial shock, Miku tells her it’ll still taste fine, and if she ever needs to dice a tomato like that she’ll know who to go to.)

The onion turns out much better. From then on, Tsubasa pays even closer attention to Miku’s instructions, despite the sweat trickling down her face, and they end up with a steaming pot of beef stroganoff with 5 minutes to spare.

“Thank you so much, Kohinata,” Tsubasa says, letting out a sigh as she sits down at the table to rest. “I would not have been able to do this without you.”

“I’m happy to help,” Miku replies. She gives Tsubasa a drained smile. “Though, next time, maybe we can try something that isn’t cooking.”

“I would greatly enjoy that.” Tsubasa says. “I’m going to set the table now. Thank you again.”

“Goodbye, Tsubasa-san!”

Tsubasa hangs up and breathes out another sigh of relief.

Only for her heart to shoot into her throat when she hears the sound of keys in a door.

Tsubasa shoots to her feet, starting toward the pot of stroganoff on the stove. She’s not sure what she plans to achieve, but the adrenaline racing through her pushes her forward.

Tsubasa curses herself. She only has to set out the food…if only she’d been just a bit faster.

The door opens and shuts. And then Maria is in the room, letting out a heavy sigh as she takes off her shoes.

Tsubasa hears her movement stop. She keeps her gaze trained on the stove.

“Tsubasa?” Maria murmurs to herself. And then—“Oh!”

Tsubasa can’t help but look up. Maria’s looking at her now, a hand over her heart. “You scared me,” she breathes.

“Sorry,” says Tsubasa. She wishes she knew what more to say, but she hadn’t even figured out what she was going to say to Maria if her plans had gone like she wanted them to.

Maria shakes her head. “You don’t need to apologize. I just—why are you here?”

“I, um—” Tsubasa feels herself flushing as Maria looks at her curiously. This is a lot more…embarrassing than she had anticipated. “I—there’s dinner.”

Maria’s eyebrows knit together. “Dinner?”

Not wanting to speak any further, Tsubasa moves aside, revealing the steaming pot of stroganoff.

Maria notices, and her eyebrows shoot up. She walks over to peer inside and takes a deep whiff of the meal.

“It’s not burnt…” Maria murmurs. She looks at Tsubasa. “Did you make this?”

Tsubasa nods.

“Why?”

This is Tsubasa’s cue, but she needs to gather her thoughts. Her mind is blank, still coming down from the adrenaline and only able to focus on how _Maria is close enough to touch_.

“Not that it’s a bad thing! I just…it’s unlike you.”

She’s right, but the heat in Tsubasa’s cheeks intensifies anyway. “It is. But I wanted to do it.”

Tsubasa holds Maria’s gaze. She sees a tinge of pink come to Maria’s cheeks and takes a deep breath.

“I wanted to show that I am grateful.” For how Maria takes care of the household chores, how she makes her food each night, how she does all of that despite her own challenges. And when she thinks about it more, the feelings burning in her chest, the warmth she feels around her, aren’t just because of what Maria does for her now. It’s how Maria continuously cares. How she pulls strength from her kindness. How she can fall yet never fail to get back up.

If on any given day Tsubasa stopped to think about it, she’s constantly in awe of Maria.

On second thought, awe is the wrong descriptor. What she feels toward Maria is a little warmer, a little closer to the chest. More equal. But Tsubasa doesn’t have a word for that.

“I am very grateful,” Tsubasa repeats. “For you.”

She almost laughs at how fast Maria gets flustered. Cheeks red, eyes flitting back and forth between Tsubasa and the space next to Tsubasa’s head, Maria grumbles, “The sword…isn’t supposed to be so cute.”

“What?” asks Tsubasa.

The other woman stares at her for a long second. Tsubasa notices the dark flecks in her sea-green eyes. Then she shakes her head, turns toward the sink. When she turns back, she holds a towel.

“Hold still.” And then Maria’s in her space, so close that Tsubasa can see the curve of her long eyelashes. Tsubasa’s eyes flutter to Maria’s lips, pressed together in…thought? Concentration?

There’s a touch of cloth on her face. Despite the roughness of the material, Maria’s hand is gentle, and Tsubasa’s skin prickles at the contact.

As Maria continues to dab at her damp brow, Tsubasa looks—really looks—at the other woman.

Her heart thuds in her chest when she meets a gentle gaze. They hold an incredible depth of feeling, warm and crinkled and soft.

She’s caught Maria looking at her like this before, but the look in her eyes has never been this exposed. Tsubasa’s face burns hot.

Usually when she looks at Tsubasa like this, it makes Tsubasa feel like they’re the only two people in the world. Maria makes her feel _important_. But this—this is almost too much for Tsubasa to handle.

Right when Tsubasa starts to worry that she’s so flushed that she’ll start sweating again, Maria pulls away.

Tsubasa can only stand rooted to the spot, staring at Maria. Her ears are red, she’s sure.

Maria holds her gaze for a second, then goes a bit red herself. Her brow creases. “Sorry…I don’t know why I did that.”

On instinct, Tsubasa shakes her head. “No, I…did not mind.” She feels her face heating again—she’s so weak, isn’t she? Tsubasa lets out an amused huff.

“It reminds me of the day you cleaned my face after the concert,” Tsubasa says, trying to regain some dignity, but it really did bring her back to that day. And somehow, despite all that’s happened, she just got even more flustered than she got then. A small smile comes to her lips.

“You…remember that?” Maria asks.

Tsubasa tilts her head, confused. “Why would I not?”

Maria goes quiet. Her gaze, somewhere off by the sink, looks a hundred yards away.

“Maria?”

Maria looks back at her. “It’s nothing,” she says, but Tsubasa can see that crease in her brow. “Come on, let’s eat before your food gets cold.” She walks over to the cabinet, pulling out their two plates.

Tsubasa just watches her. Even as dense as she can be about emotions, she gets the feeling she’s just been shut out. Again. She wishes Maria wouldn’t do that, but she doesn’t have the words to tell her such.

So she doesn’t. She helps Maria set the table, instead, and they eat.

(Her beef stroganoff, thankfully, turned out very well.)

While they eat, Maria gets her to explain how Miku helped her. Normally, Tsubasa would be embarrassed. It would be lying to say she wasn’t, just a little. She should also be more worried about how Maria keeps closing herself off.

But, as she sits across from Maria, seeing her face split into a grin, the other woman bursting out into laughter as Tsubasa tells her the fortieth mistake she made that poor Miku had to correct, Tsubasa can’t find it in herself to be anything much more than content.

_~~~~~_

“Kohinata?”

“Yes, Tsubasa-san?”

“I need your help again.”

_~~~~~_

As they both (and Maria) agree, Tsubasa is not allowed to cook again. At least, not until she has had a _dedicated_ day of training. Possibly a week.

So Mika decides to teach her how to wash the dishes. The next best thing. 

It should have been easy. It should have taken an hour to teach her, max.

But Tsubasa Kazanari is a wonder of nature who cannot be trusted around any kitchen appliance—including dishwashers. Especially dishwashers.

And thus, instead of surprising Maria with a cabinet full of sparkling dishes upon her return, Maria comes back from work to find a...damp Tsubasa frantically trying to jiggle the dishwasher’s bottom rack back into place whilst a frantic Miku reads off instructions from a random website. The plates are on the floor, some right side up, some upside down (one on its side against the cabinet?), and the sink is full of sudsy, dirty water which Tsubasa evidently couldn’t confine to just the sink, judging by the puddles of water on the floor and the countertop.

Maria sighs, mutters _at least none of the plates are broken_ , and immediately looks like she regrets it when Tsubasa whirls around, stiff, eyes darting guiltily to the garbage can underneath the sink and _yep,_ that’s a broken ceramic right there.

They spend the rest of the night cleaning up and Googling how to fix the dishwasher until they (after at least an hour) return the kitchen to the way it was before, the dishwasher humming steadily.

That night, due to the lack of plates and utensils, they have Chinese takeout on the couch. Tsubasa puts on an action flick that she explains by saying the Commander told her she _has_ to watch by the end of the week.

(She usually ignores his recommendations, but there was something much more enjoyable about the experience with Maria.)

For some reason, Maria stays on the far end of the couch, but Tsubasa catches her occasional small, albeit tired, smile. Despite her mistakes, Tsubasa’s efforts seem to be yielding _something_ positive.

It makes her want to try again—to get it right this time. But she is hesitant to bother Miku any further. She knows the other girl may be very drained by now.

But the next day, during her workday, Miku texts her, _would you like to try again?_ and Tsubasa feels a sweeping wave of gratitude.

She is able to leave early—it’s not like she exactly has much to do these days anyway—and calls Miku once she gets home.

”Is it really all right?” asks Tsubasa, after exchanging greetings that are much less awkward than their first. In fact, Tsubasa would even say there is a warmth to Miku’s tone that she hasn’t heard before—at least directed towards her. If there is one sure, good thing to come out of the situation, it’s getting the chance to know Miku better. “I worry this is too much of a bother for you—I am afraid I am quite the difficult student. If you would like to stop, I would not mind.”

There’s silence on the other line, and Tsubasa wonders if she said something wrong. It’s a rare occurrence for Miku to not have a response ready. “Kohinata?”

”Ah, sorry,” Miku says. “I was honestly just surprised you were so considerate.” Miku seems to realize what she’s said, and Tsubasa hears a strangled noise come over the call. “Not that you aren’t considerate!”

Tsubasa merely laughs. “I am aware that emotional intelligence is not one of my strong suits. But...” she pauses. “When another is so considerate of me, I would like to try to do the same.”

”Is this about Maria-san?” Miku’s voice carries a teasing lilt.

Tsubasa flushes. Was she truly this predictable? But Miku is too quick to shift the focus away from herself and the point Tsubasa wants to make. “...It is. But, Kohinata, it’s also about you. I am truly grateful for your determination to help me, and you are one of the finest instructors I have ever had.”

“Oh!” Miku says. Tsubasa hears shifting, staticky through the connection, and imagines Miku drawing her knees to her chest, blushing a deep red. “That...makes me very happy to hear. Thank you, Tsubasa-san.”

She can’t help the small, fond smile that spreads over her lips. “It is just the truth.”

After a short, comfortable silence, Miku’s voice comes through the receiver. “I think,” she says, voice quieter than usual. “This has helped me a lot, actually. I never knew what I wanted to do, or enjoyed, for a very long time.”

Tsubasa has always been the opposite, chasing two aspirations at a time: one for duty and one for herself. So she stays silent and listens, interested to hear Miku’s thoughts.

“I felt like...a blank slate. Even after meeting Hibiki changed my life for the better. I was happy, and knew she would support me in anything I chose to do, but I felt as if I had nothing I could or even wanted to choose. But recently I’ve realized that I _do_ have things I enjoy, and there’s a way to capture them all in one future goal.”

Tsubasa admires that—the perseverance it must have taken to keep trying to figure out one’s purpose. “What is that goal?”

”I think...” Miku trails off. “It’s a bit embarrassing to say out loud, because this is the first time, but it’s partially thanks to you that I’m set on it now, so...” Miku stops. Takes a breath.

“I think I want to go into education.” Her voice is soft, a bit shy, but one can hear the determination, the passion lurking in her tone.

Tsubasa smiles. It’s a perfect career for the other woman. “I think you would be amazing at that, Kohinata.” 

“Thank you,” says Miku, a shade of bashfulness entering her voice. “It made me very happy to hear that you think I’m a great instructor.”

“Again, it is just true. Not many have your patience as well as your aptitude for instruction. Your demeanor is quite warm as well.” Tsubasa pauses, wondering how much to divulge, but Miku has told her a lot today. “I have enjoyed our time together quite a bit.” Warmth creeps up her neck.

“Oh, stop it!” Miku’s voice is high. “Let’s just...get to work, okay?” She mutters the next part under her breath, so Tsubasa almost doesn’t catch it. “No wonder so many girls are charmed by you.”

Tsubasa’s natural restraint is the only thing that prevents her from asking _who? Which girls?_ She shakes her head.

That could be a question for another day. Perhaps when she and Miku were closer. The thought makes her smile. 

After a series of questions about the state of their apartment, Miku determines that the most helpful chore to do would be the laundry. At this, Tsubasa groans. If there is one chore she detests, it is laundry. The rest she can tolerate; she is just horrible at them. Laundry? There is something about it that makes Tsubasa want to go to sleep and never wake up again.

But Miku is unrelenting— _don’t you want to help Maria-san? There are no more substantial chores to do_ —and so Tsubasa caves. 

“I have to admit,” Miku admits, after fifteen minutes of Tsubasa struggling and trying— _trying_ —not to act like a disheartened child. “It’s very funny to see you acting like this.” Miku giggles. “Who knew the great Tsubasa-san was this afraid of the laundry?” She pauses. “Well, besides anyone who sees your room.”

”Please,” Tsubasa groans. “Have mercy.”

”I think you’re actually far better at this than you’ve been at any other chore,” Miku muses. “If we got you to stop despising it...who knows, maybe you’d actually go far.”

Miku is right, but Tsubasa thinks it has more to do with their talk than with anything else. They understand each other much better now, Tsubasa needing less lengthy explanations from Miku, and Miku knowing exactly what Tsubasa is finding difficult.

“I think,” Tsubasa says, very seriously. “I would rather eat my sword.”

Miku laughs; Tsubasa cracks a grudging smile. The rest of the time passes without a hitch.

_~~~~~_

“Welcome home.”

Tsubasa greets Maria once she returns, unable to hide the upward twitch of her lips. Once she had realized that the better she followed Miku’s instructions, the faster she could be done with laundry, Tsubasa had actually applied herself to great results. She’s been sitting at the table for about twenty minutes, a little lost without something to do for once, but she had mildly enjoyed herself, oddly enough.

Maria’s head shoots up. “Oh. You’re here again.” She slides her shoes off and shuts the door with a click. “Did you call Miku-san again?”

”I did.” Tsubasa’s eyes pass over Maria’s hunched shoulders, her unfocused gaze. “She taught me how to do the laundry.”

Maria’s gaze cuts to her. Her expression shutters for a tenth of a millisecond, and then she’s back, arching a brow. “Am I going to have to rescue the laundry room?”

”No,” says Tsubasa. A proud smile spreads across her face, despite how she tries to hold it back. “We succeeded. Nothing is broken or on fire or damp that should not be.”

“That’s a relief.” Maria sits on the couch with a long sigh. 

Tsubasa studies her. She takes a breath, centering herself so she can ask the question she’d prepared. “Would you—“ She hesitates when Maria shuts her eyes and tips her head back, a loose strand of hair falling out of her ponytail to hang past her jaw. “—would you want to eat dinner together?” Tsubasa asks—feels her heart beat in her chest.

Maria’s eyes open to the ceiling. There’s a silence before she responds. “I’m sorry. I’m not feeling up to it today.” She rolls her shoulder with a wince. “Is it all right if I just order some takeout for us to eat? I have a little more work I need to do.”

”Of course,” Tsubasa says. Maria must have been on her feet all day, plus doing whatever other physical activity is required of a secret agent. Again, Tsubasa had been selfish. 

Judging by Maria’s wince, she’s sore. And that is something Tsubasa can help with herself, no Miku or Googling needed.

She gets up to stand behind the couch. Maria’s gaze meets hers. “Tsubasa...?” she murmurs, the previous hardness of her expression dropping.

“I can help if you are sore,” Tsubasa says. Putting her hands on Maria’s shoulders, she gently presses her thumbs into Maria’s muscles, searching for the most tension. “If you would like.”

For a second, based on how her body softens, it looks like Maria will relax back into her and let Tsubasa give her the massage. But then Tsubasa feels her shoulder muscles go impossibly tight beneath her thumbs and Maria’s jerking away from her hands and something in Tsubasa’s heart goes very, very cold.

“What are you doing?” Maria demands, voice cracking as she turns to face Tsubasa and roots her to the spot with a searing gaze. “Tsubasa, what is this?”

There’s pain and anger and many other emotions in Maria’s eyes and Tsubasa is frozen. “I did not mean to upset you,” she finally manages to say. “I apologize.”

How she upset Maria, she isn’t quite sure. 

“No, not _this_ ,” Maria says, tone frustrated. She makes a gesture between them. “This.”

Tsubasa mimics her dumbly. “...this?”

”Yes, this!” Maria spits. “Even when we both know better—that you’re still holding onto her—for the past few months you’ve been acting like...you’re in love with me, like this is a real relationship, like...I’m not a fucking _idiot_ for falling for someone who’s clearly always going to love someone who isn’t even here.” 

The fire in her eyes hasn’t faded, but when Maria takes a deep breath, it’s much steadier than before. “I had come to terms with it. I was fine with just being...whatever this is. Being there for you in the ways you need it, having sex, nothing more. But then over the past few days you’ve been treating this like it’s a—an actual relationship and sometimes you look at me like I...I don’t know, like I have all the answers to all your questions and more, and your eyes are so caring and full of love and—“ Maria squeezes her eyes shut. She wipes at her face viciously. “This wouldn’t hurt so much if this didn’t make me want it so bad,” she whispers. “If it didn’t give me some hope, even though I know I shouldn’t have any.”

And Tsubasa’s heart whispers, _oh_.

It’s beating. She can feel it beating. It’s...fast. Really fast.

Why...? After Maria’s confession...?

Maria’s scrubbing at her face harder now. 

“I didn’t know it would hurt this much,” Maria says, voice breaking.

Why is she crying? Why is she crying while Tsubasa feels so...light? While something in Tsubasa is opening up—yawning wide and spreading sickeningly sweet warmth throughout her body.

What had she said before—right. Kanade.

Funny how her old partner had been the last thing on Tsubasa’s mind. (Even still, her mind plays _idiot for falling in love—if this didn’t make me want it so bad_ on loop. There are many things that must be repeated for them to be learned. This isn’t swordplay, but this is the same.)

That should make it clear, shouldn’t it?

And like Tsubasa’s been realizing, she’s okay with that. She doesn’t need to cling to Kanade anymore—after all, Kanade always hoped Tsubasa would find her own wings someday. Everything she did for her was to ensure that.

“I’m sorry,” Maria says. Tsubasa looks up. Maria takes a shaky breath, no longer scrubbing at her face, and Tsubasa can see the glisten at the corners of her eyes. “I didn’t mean to tell you like this. I can leave if you can’t answer me. If you give the word, we can just forget.”

She can’t. She could never. Tsubasa lunges forward and grabs one of Maria’s hands. Maria starts, eyes going wide. Tsubasa clears her throat, limbs and tongue suddenly feeling very heavy and very awkward. “Um.”

Maria just stares at her, mouth slightly parted. Tsubasa slowly moves her other hand up to Maria’s face. She feels off balance, unused to being ruled so completely by her emotions. When she cups Maria’s face in her hand, she realizes her fingers have been trembling. 

She should say something. But suspended in the moment between them, all Maria’s eyes and Tsubasa’s hand and a beating heart (Two beating hearts?), Tsubasa can’t do anything except close the distance and brush Maria’s lips with hers.

It’s light. They barely make contact, yet it makes Tsubasa’s heart jump in her chest and her gut swoop down to the earth and face flame like never before. 

Maria gapes at her, just as breathless, her chest rising and falling quicker than usual. “Words. Tsubasa, I need words.”

Tsubasa nods. That makes sense. Logically, it adds up.

But she can’t speak, for some reason.

Maria’s expression changes. “Are you...okay?”

Tsubasa nods. Maria’s expression softens.

”Come sit,” Maria says. She scoots over on the couch. “I can wait for you to figure it out.”

She’s already figured it out—she could’ve had it figured out a while ago if she’d been a little less...dense. She just hasn’t figured out how to say it.

Tsubasa walks around to sit on the couch. Maria takes her hand when she does, smoothing the pad of her thumb across the back of Tsubasa’s hand. 

A few moments pass before Tsubasa finds words at her disposal once again. “I, um,” she says. “I do not love Kanade anymore,” she blurts. Then flushes, because that did _not_ come out how she wanted it to. “Not that I do not still deeply care for her! But the nature of my feelings have changed, because of you.”

She hears Maria’s breath hitch and then turn into a laugh. Tsubasa flushes, knowing she seems like a disaster, but keeps going. “You were right. I was clinging to someone I could never be with again, and it only hindered me when...love...means looking toward the future. That is something she always tried to get me to see as well.” Tsubasa looks off to the side. “I have already said it, but I am deeply grateful for you. I also admire you quite a deal. You are truly strong, in every way. From the battlefield to your strength of character to...household chores. Among other things.”

Maria flushes. Tsubasa smiles. “But also, I now know what I feel for you is not mere admiration. The feeling I get when I see you, when you care for me and when I care for you—I have not felt a feeling like this. I loved Kanade romantically as well, but it was different. Just like people are different, I suppose.”

Tsubasa clears her throat, uncomfortable bringing up Kanade now that she knows how much pain Maria had gone through because she (rightfully) thought Tsubasa was obsessed with her old partner. “Regardless, the love I have for you is...romantic. I realized this just now, but I am sure. It has been romantic for a while,” Tsubasa says, laying a hand over her beating heart. She finally meets Maria’s gaze.

Only to see the other woman’s eyes are watering. “What a very Tsubasa-like confession,” she laughs, despite the tears beginning to stream down her face. And then she’s leaning forward and scooting closer to wrap her arms around Tsubasa, burying her head in her chest.

Tsubasa responds instinctively, one arm going around Maria’s waist, the other to her head to smooth her hair. Fondness—Tsubasa is finally able to identify the emotion—expands her chest as she looks down at Maria. A damp spot grows on her shirt, but Tsubasa isn’t worried; she can feel Maria’s smile stretched against her collarbone.

They have a long future together ahead of them. The thought makes Tsubasa smile, her heart threatening to burst at the seams.

Time passes, and Tsubasa is happy. Purely, genuinely happy.

“You know,” Maria says when she finally pulls back. She’s a mess—frizzy baby hairs stick to her visibly damp face and her sea-green eyes are still watering and Tsubasa’s heart jolts because she is very, very in love. “The thing that hurt most was that I thought I’d met you too late, even if we were so good together. And that broke my heart more than anything.”

Tsubasa shakes her head, a smile still on her face. “I no longer think ‘too late’ is a possibility. People can reinvent themselves and determine their futures as much as they’d like.”

Maria laughs, free and relieved, and wipes an eye. “If the old you could see you now...”

Tsubasa shrugs. “I would like to think she’d be proud, deep down. I have always admired those with the strength to forge their own paths,” she says, looking fondly at Maria.

Maria’s arms tighten around Tsubasa. “I love you,” she murmurs, and Tsubasa’s pulse flutters.

How she got so lucky to have met Maria, she may never know.

But from there, it hadn’t been luck—just two people who, despite losing hope at times, never quit trying. For themselves, and for each other. 

It makes Tsubasa incredibly proud. More than any one of her best concerts or mastery of her most difficult fighting techniques.

Tsubasa brushes Maria’s hair out of her face and, at this point, they know each other so intimately that when Tsubasa leans down, Maria raises her head and meets her halfway. 

When their lips meet, Maria laughs, Tsubasa smiles, and she is home once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so...this kept getting longer and longer and what I'd thought was the 80% mark turned out to be the 50% mark...haha. that coupled with xdu and genshin and other obligations...well, I'm super glad to have gotten it out now :)).  
> I'm going to be making an epilogue for this at some point, but for now, this is it! it's onto new fics for me, but this one is very very close to my heart. and just fun. I hope others will enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it  
> <3


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